#And I can barely even work in any infections for Kate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwinterwitch · 2 years

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Hello, I really liked your Kate bishop fic, and I was wondering if I could request another with her? I was thinking of something along the lines of her liking the reader for a while already, but always thinking that she would never like her back, then maybe after her fight in ep 6 she shows up to the reader all hurt because she had nowhere to go for the night. And the reader then takes care of her and all her wounds, patches her up, and is all caring, tender and gentle with Kate, and amidst all of it Kate doesn't realize that she started crying? Because of all that already happened that night and this was the last straw because she wanted to be more? I just wanted to see Kate's vulnerable side explored a bit, and I think it would be a cute hurt/comfort idea, with them getting together at the end. Only if you want of course <3.

I absolutely loved this idea, it's so cute tysm for your request, hope you like it❤

⚠️This contains Hawkeye spoilers in case you haven't finished the series yet⚠️

SOMETHING MORE – KATE BISHOP

summary: kate had to get her ass kicked to finally tell you she likes you

pairing: kate bishop x gn!reader

word count: 2.5k

tw: mentions of injuries, angst, reader cleans kate's wounds, brief mentions of possible death, cursing

It was strange for someone to be buzzing your apartment bell this late, especially when you weren't expecting anyone to drop something off to you. Most likely someone had made a mistake and meant to buzz someone else, but you decided to check anyway just to make sure.

"Yes?" you asked through the little device installed at the entrance of your small apartment.

"Uh, it's me," you heard the voice of your best friend through the speaker. "Can I...can I come up?"

The sound of her voice let you know something was wrong. It didn't sound like the usual cheerful Kate you've known from most of your life, instead, she sounded...tired.

"Sure," you replied almost immediately, clicking a button to let her inside the building. Opening your front door, you waited until you saw her exciting the elevator. The sight of her was even more worrying than the sound of her voice. She was barely able to walk properly due to the visible pain she was in, holding onto her side, carrying her bow on her available hand. "Kate, what the hell happened to you?"

She hissed in pain when she stood in front of you, holding onto her left side of her chest even tighter. "Can I explain inside?"

You opened your mouth to say something, to tell her how are you supposed to wait even a second to hear what could've possibly happened that she ended up looking like this, but decided it was better to get inside before listening to the story. She looks like the needed to rest and get her wounds cleaned up before any of them gets infected.

Kate followed you inside and practically dropped on top of your couch, grunting at the pain she felt by falling so abruptly to it. You went to the kitchen to get whatever you had on your freezer to help with the pain on her chest. Her black and purple suit didn't look perforated in any way on that place, so you assumed it had to be swelling and that's what hurts so terribly.

As Kate began telling you everything that happened, you sat next to the couch on a chair so you could clean the wounds on her face. She told you all about this guy named Kingpin and his connections to her mom. This was evidently a whole surprise for you, not thinking Eleanor could be involved with people like the one Kate is describing to you.

Clint Barton was already someone familiar to you. Kate never seemed to stop talking about him, which only got worse when she met actually got to meet the guy. You already knew she has been working with him on something way too complicated for you to understand, but dangerous enough for you to at least try to be as involved as you could without getting dragged into any trouble. You worried Kate was getting herself into situations that were way out of her capacity, and tonight your worries seem to have been proven.

But yet again, not even Clint Barton would've predicted this whole situation to end up the way it did. If an Avenger couldn't see it coming, maybe you shouldn't expect Kate to know any better.

"I'm very sorry to hear about your mom," you commented once the story was apparently over. "It must've been hard for you to...you know, do what you did."

"It was the right thing to do," Kate replied, trying to remind herself she did what she was supposed to do. "She needs to take responsibility for her actions."

"And what happened with Clint Barton?"

"He's figuring some stuff about regarding something else, I guess. Maybe I call him tomorrow."

"You know I support you, Kate, but perhaps you need to take a break from all the Avenger-level disasters."

"Oh, believe me, I will," she sighed. "I just want to make sure he's okay."

"Well, at least this is all finally over," you tried. "Only thing left to do is remain optimistic, right?"

"Yeah. And hey, thank you for doing all of this," she replied, hinting to you immediately deciding to take care of her.

"Don't thank me for being a good friend, Kate. Now hold still...this might sting a little."

Kate did as told, not saying anything else. She couldn't help but thank you, because it really does mean a lot to have you there for her. It means way more than what you'll ever known. She doesn't see your help as just a friendly gesture because, even when it is coming from you, she's unable to see it in a strictly platonic way. She hoped she could see you the way you see her, but she can't do that when she has been in love with you for so long.

It wasn't a coincidence that she skipped a few details of the story, deciding to hide them from you just like she has been hiding what she truly feels fro you. Of course she wouldn't want you to know that the only thing she could think of the entire night was you. She was afraid of the worst, of Kingpin and his men taking her and Clint down, of Yelena actually killing Clint and leaving her all alone in this. She was afraid something terrible would happen and that she'd never get a chance to explain everything that happened. Not getting her chance to say goodbye. Of not ever at least trying to let you know she wants to be more than your best friend.

No. She'd never say something like that. Or...could she? Was her fight with Kingpin and the betrayal of her mom all enough for her to realize how she shouldn't take her time with you for granted? Could this whole experience be enough for her to realize that, in perspective, she has absolutely nothing to lose? She fought a mafia boss and his gang, surprisingly (sort of) befriended a Black Widow assassin and had the strength enough to put her own mom on jail on Christmas...but she's not able to tell you she likes you?

Whatever the possible answers to those questions were, she wasn't able to think of them because of the sudden discomfort she felt on her forehead due to the alcohol making contact with her open wound, forcing her to flinch.

"Hold still," you reminded her in a soft voice, using your free hand to hold her chin to keep her head as still as possible, continuing to clean her wound.

At that very moment Kate couldn't decide which hurts the most: the piece of cotton soaked in alcohol making contact with her wound, or the fact that you're holding her face so delicately, sitting so incredibly close to her as you're taking care of her, your incredibly beautiful eyes focusing only on her, making your top priority making sure she was okay.

You just took down the meanest, nastiest guy that could possibly exist and you're afraid to tell her you love her? she thought to herself. Does it take another nasty villain to attack New York for you to build up enough courage?

Kate flinches again, a mixture of physical pain from her wound and emotional pain from this frustration and inner discussion she's having with herself. Noticing her movement, you moved away and looked at her.

"You want to take a break?" you asked. You had already cleaned two of the wounds on her face, so maybe you thought she was in too much discomfort she needed to rest a little before continuing.

You sat to eat Mac' and Cheese with the blood-thisty vigilante! Hell, she even invited you to grab a couple drinks sometime! Why is this scarier than that?

"Kate, are you okay?"

She seemed to finally snap out of it, looking at you a little disorientated at first before gently nodding. "Yeah, I just...I don't know, maybe I'm a little tired."

"You want me to leave you rest for a minute?"

No, don't leave. Please don't leave.

"No, it's fine. It's fine."

"Are you sure?" you insisted.

Kate nodded again, so you continued cleaning the last wound she had on her face, making sure to be as gentle as you were with the previous injuries you just cleaned. During the whole time, Kate was unable to look at you, which you didn't necessarily mind or care, much more preoccupied in doing your job right.

She flinched again but you ignored it as you were almost done anyway. Once you cleaned every wound of her face, you moved away, grabbing the band aids to put on top of them.

"We're almost done, Kate," you muttered. "I just put this one last band aid and you can rest."

Already done, you put everything away in your first-aid kit and went back to check on Kate, noticing she was shifting to a sitting position on the couch, throwing the bag of frozen peas on the coffee table.

"You need me to get you something else for that?"

"No, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as much anymore."

You nodded, taking a seat on the chair you were previously sitting at. Kate tried to remove her bag of arrows (now completely empty) from her bag but stopped immediately as a sharp pain invaded her entire body. Quickly noticing her struggling, you removed it from her body and left it om the coffee table.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"There's really nothing to thank me for. With knowing you're here with me safe is more that enough."

Kate felt her heart shattering into million pieces. She tried to smile, but you could tell she wasn't happy at all. How could she be happy on a situation like this? How could she, when she's such a coward for never telling you what you really mean to her?

She's far from happy. She can't be happy when she has you in her life, but not in the way she'd want it. Not when she's safe with you, but not really with you.

Before she even realizes it, tears start streaming down her face and she completely breaks down. Is she crying because she's finally snapping from the terror of facing Wilson Fisk? Is she crying because she already misses her mom? Is she crying because her entire body is on fire and she feels so much pain, or is it because is just so painful not being able to tell you she loves you like she was never loved anyone in her life?

The answer is yes to everything. She's a sobbing mess because everything is so wrong. Maybe she's even crying for the good things, like the fact that she's still alive. Kate just had so much inside of her that the emotions were too much to handle, having to allow herself to be vulnerable for once.

She was scared, she was happy, she was tired. She was with you, but felt so lonely at the same time. The mixed feelings were too overwhelming for her to pretend to be in control.

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured her, standing up from your seat to join her on the couch, carefully wrapping an arm around her to avoid hurting her.

"No. No it's not," she sobbed, letting out a sarcastic chuckle. "I almost died today because I decided to play superhero, my mom turned out to be a very terrible person and my whole body just...fucking hurts. And I feel so incredibly stupid because...because I had to get my ass brutally kicked to realize I can't keep pretending to be your friend when all I've ever wanted is to be more than that!"

You froze in your spot, looking at her in complete disbelief after what she said. It looks like even Kate was surprised she was even able to confess such thing to you.

"What?"

"Sorry for dropping that bomb on you like it was nothing. I guess after everything that has happened tonight I couldn't hold it in any longer."

"I– I just never realized..."

"This is so embarrassing," she muttered, avoiding to look back at you, wiping the tears away from her face. "Look, I'm exhausted. I'd appreciate it if you friend zone me tomorrow after I get some sleep."

"No, that's not– I mean, I was going to say that I feel the same way."

Kate blinked in amusement, not knowing what to say. "What– what do you...what?"

You chuckle at her stuttering. "I like you too, idiot."

"I...didn't see that coming," she says in utter disbelief, still not entirely sure if she even heard you correctly. "So, like...you like me like me?"

"Exactly."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Fair enough," she nodded. "I can't believe this is actually happening. I really thought you didn't see me in that way. I mean, how could I've known? Or maybe–"

At this point you had lean slightly closer to her but she was way too preoccupied rambling to even notice. "Kate?" you called.

She finally realized how close you were, her expression suddenly showing how incredibly nervous she got by your proximity. "Y-yes?"

"Shut up."

Right after those words left your mouth, your lips crashed against Kate's in a much awaited kiss. Even when she'd want to kiss you much fiercely than she is right now, her body was in so much pain she had to keep herself under control for now. You were incredibly sweet with her, kissing her as gently as you could to avoid hurting her. You wanted this moment to be enjoyable for the two of you.

Moving away from your kiss, you noticed Kate couldn't hide her smile. It was as if all her problems were solved right there. For a moment, she managed to even forgot all that has happened in the last few hours. All because she gets to be with the person she loves.

"How about we go get some rest and tomorrow we talk more about...whatever this is?" you suggested, knowing Kate seriously needed to lay down.

"Sounds good."

You helped her stood up, going to your kitchen to put the peas back in the frozen before following Kate to your bedroom. You helped her get her shoes off and got her much comfortable clothes to sleep it. You figured she needed a shower too, but it was very late and probably she's too tired for that right now. You'd gladly help her tomorrow with all of that, knowing she still will be in a lot of pain.

You lay down next to her on your bed, deciding not to cuddle her to avoid hurting her due to her injuries. She got comfortable in a position she liked and almost immediately closed her eyes, unbelievably tired from all the fighting she went through. Not wanting to disturb her, you gently kissed her forehead before you closed your eyes too, sleeping better than ever knowing that Kate (who's not longer "just your friend Kate") was sleeping next to you.

#kate bishop x reader #reader insert #kate bishop #hailee steinfeld #marvel mcu #mcu x reader #mcu fic #hawkeye series

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being-worthy · 3 years

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Sunday Home Cinema: Army of the Dead!!

I haven't done one of these reviews in a long time (thanks to Covid-19 ¬¬) but I'm glad this film was the one to get me back in doing these reviews.

Honestly, I found out about the film about two weeks ago when I clicked on it on YouTube out of curiosity. It looked good and I'm an all big fan of zombie films and series and every zombie-themed film/series, even if it's extremely bad made (e.g. Z Nation but it's so funny to watch).

Sorry for any mistakes or things that make not much sense but I'm writing this at 2.30am and I just wanted to write this down while it's still fresh (I might review it later on if I feel like it).

> SPOILER ALERT AHEAD!! <

Apparently, Zack Snyder's Army of the Dead (here's the trailer), which can be watched on Netflix, is the prequel of Dawn of the Dead from 2004 also directed by him, which was a remake of the George A. Romero classic. I've got a hard time seeing this due to the zombies being so different but well, let's just roll with it.

Scott Ward (played by Dave Bautista) is offered/hired for $50 million by Bly Tanaka (villain/businessman played by Hiroyuki Sanada) to break into a walled Las Vegas after it was overrun by a zombie outbreak starting at the outskirts of the city with patient zero aka alpha zombie Zeus (more to the different zombie types later on) to "apparently" retrieve $200 million that is stashed in a safe at the casino's basement. Basically, it's like Ocean's Eleven but with zombies giving the film a nice touch.

I knew from the moment Tanaka offered Scott this job that there was going to be more to it. Why else would a stinking rich guy like Tanaka need to have a group to retrieve some money when: a. the insurance paid him some of that money back. I know he mentions he can't use it but come on, people like him know how to find either a way around whatever rule there might be or even wash it. And b. he looks like a guy who understands how business works and is well off, so you're telling me he wants to send a group there just for $200 million? B*tch please, I'm sure that's just petty cash to him, and there's surely more to it, especially after one of his goons (Martin) "invites" himself to tag along with the group to "make sure" they get the job done.

If I was offered that kind of money to go to a completely sealed city ruled by zombies, I wouldn't accept it no matter how bad my situation might be. The probability that something might go sideways is too high not to mention the risk that the virus spreads out to the rest of the world, I wouldn’t be able to live with that on my conscience.

In order to pull off this heist Scott assembles a team for the mission:

Vanderohe, the tank and chainsaw man. There'll be a little paragraph for him since his fate doesn't make entirely sense to me.

Marianne Peters, the pilot.

Maria Cruz, the mechanic.

Kate Ward, a volunteer in the quarantine zone. She's Scott's daughter and the only (human) survivor in the film.

Geeta, the mother. She ventures into the zombie-infested Vegas to find money in order to pay for safe passage out of the quarantine zone for herself and her children. I believe she dies in the helicopter crash but we don't see her body, so she might be alive somewhat?

Ludwig Dieter, the thief/safe expert, and I love how he questions everything lol!

Lilly "The Coyote", "the one who knows her stuff" aka zombie expert. Somehow interesting that she's got a conscience/good heart.

Martin, the inside man, and Bly Tanaka's right hand and got the death he deserved by kitten Valentine.

Mikey Guzman, the Sharpshooter and a YouTuber.

Chambers, the muscles and Guzman's sidekick (sort of). Her death was very predictable and her own fault! Girl, why the hell would you tell Martin that you don't trust him directly to his face?! That's such a rookie mistake!!

Burt Cummings, also the muscle for like 5 minutes before turning into the bait/bargain chip for a "deal" with the zombies in order to pass their territory. Overall, he's just a big jerk.

We see the first five people are survivors of the outbreak when Vegas was "freshly" being overrun by zombies and barely made it out of the city before it was completely sealed off. The rest of them are new characters. Almost none of them have any deep character story/feeling/development, most of them are quite plain and you don't care whether they survive or not. I've got also a hard time seeing any father-daughter relationship between Scott and Kate. I get that they haven't talked to each other since Scott had to put down Kate's mother after she got turned into a zombie but if I hadn’t seen the beginning I'd say they're just two strangers who met during the outbreak and he saved her at some point.

I very much like the fact that they introduce different types of zombies! On one hand, we've got the standard zombies aka shamblers who move slowly and are dead if you blow their brains out and if they bite you you become a shambler too. Then, there are the alphas who are fast (so fast that they can dodge bullets), they can also think, take orders, and are very organised. If you're bitten by one you become an alpha too but they also die if they're shot in the head which is easier said than done! We've also got a zombie horse, that's more bone than anything else, and a big tiger kitten called Valentine who used to be part of Siegfried & Roy's show (which also throws in the question, during which year is this movie set? They've both already passed away and they haven’t been retired from the entertainment world for a while before they passed away, and we see Tanaka carrying a modern mobile, so it must be during the past 2-3 our years.)

Their leader is patient zero aka Zeus who we see at the beginning being transported by a convoy of soldiers from Area 51 to somewhere else but never makes it there because he breaks free due to part of the convoy crashing into a car of a recent married (while the guy gets a blowjob and doesn’t watch the road!). He also takes the Bride as his queen (later on she's beheaded and her head still alive), who we see to be pregnant!! HOLY COW!! This throws in sooo many questions! For instance, how do zombies reproduce? The same way as we humans? What will the baby look like? Full zombie? A hybrid, half-human half-zombie? What power would they have? Do I even want to know or see this? Probably. Probably not. How many times did I wish they'd have introduced something like this in TWD (before I stopped watching it). At some point the virus that makes people zombies is supposed to mutate, every virus mutates at some point. We did already see a zombie baby in Dawn of the Dead but that was different since the woman was already in the late stages of pregnancy when she got bit. This one was one that was produced from zombie sex. I’ve got a feeling that their sex must be quite violent to say the least. Also, they way how the care for each other, especially Zeus for his Bride and child and seeks vengeance for both their deaths showing they’re capable of feeling and caring for their people. Maybe, just maybe want to find a way to survive without having to turn people but I think they’ll still need humans as a source of food. I don’t think they’re capable to live from eating normal food.

I've to make a special mention about Vanderohe. Besides, the fact that he's very attractive, there are a few things that don't make entirely sense to me.

He survives the nuclear blast of Las Vegas since he was looked inside the safe, which I can see being possible but (a little more possible than Indiana Jones seeking shelter in an old-fashioned fridge from a nuclear blast in Indiana Jones and Kingdom of Crystal Skull)... the whole city was nuked! And I mean big smoke of mushroom nuke! So, shouldn't the place, I don't know, be radioactive or something like that? And shouldn’t he find the nearest decontamination shower? Furthermore, it doesn't make sense that he gets infected, i.e. bitten. He gets into a fight with Zeus while they're in front of the safe and I watched that part several times and in slow motion too and we don't see Zeus bit him. There's one time where Zeus almost bites him but his teeth don't end up sinking into the flesh. He has Van in his hold, dislocates his right shoulder, and almost bites him there but only almost! In that same moment, Dieter hits Zeus in the head and pulls Van into the safe closing the door behind him (and most likely gets killed/turned by Zeus). I repeat there's no "visible" scene of Van being bitten by Zeus or any other zombie in another scene. So, where the f*ck did he get the bite and from who? I've also read that there's a theory of Van being immune because he's not turning as quick as the soldiers at the beginning of the movie when Zeus escapes the convoy (he still might be able to infect others though). He starts to feel lightheaded/dizzy and his body feels cold to the touch on the plane, and around the bite we see the veins turning black but that's it.

As much as I love the concept of the movie, it's very predictable as well as easy to figure out who makes it out alive and who makes it out the other kind of "alive" and it also reminded me a bit of Resident Evil (the first film was good and the rest just a waste). Tanaka wanting a fresh sample of an Alpha to make a virus that enables him to create an army of zombies he can control and take over the world. He could be Wesker's twin and his company the equivalent of the Umbrella Corporation. It's worth to watch but it doesn't compare to other zombie films such as 28 Days Later or even Dawn of the Dead (the classic and newer version), and many others.

#army of the dead #zack snyder #netflix #netflix original #sunday home cinema #honest review #film night #movie night #the ending makes no sense

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jamesedwinstark · 3 years

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Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

2 notes · View notes

sircarolyn · 3 years

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for the wip meme: ahh I want to ask about all the dw ones....how about i contain myself to um. three? “as you sparkle in the sky (vxl)” and “laughter lines” and “will you be my future or just an escape”?

please feel free to ask about any of the other ones too, if you want! you’ve probably picked three of the most coherent documents i own though, aha <3

as you sparkle is the veega/leela document, of course, and it’s made up like three half finished fics, and every thought i’ve ever had about them

laughter lines is a little 13/river concept i’ve had for ages and ages and ages that i never got round to finishing because other stuff kept grabbing my attention instead

and will you be my future is the most self-indulgent sarah jane/kate stewart nonsense ever that i wrote feverishly some time last year before gallifrey infected me

more details under the cut because i rambled on, aha

as you sparkle in the sky

this is a lyric from the shinedown song ‘miracle’: as you sparkle in the sky / i’ll catch you while i can / cause all we are is all i am / i just want you to see what i’ve always believed / you are the miracle in me

this is the place where all my veega/leela(/romana) ideas have settled, so it is kind of a mess, and i keep getting new snippets of ideas that i have to note down - and because i’m incapable of writing fic longer than 5k, it’s more or less manageable to keep all the different bits i’m trying to work on at once in there

i went on about the ot3 the other day, but i have since off the back of your tags been thinking more about narvin in this au because more and more i’ve started to enter the galaxy brain shipping space of leela/romana/narvin - and i still don’t think that’s the angle i’d approach for this fic because i am specifically interested in how it’s all going to tear leela into teeny tiny little bits (me thinking about leela? audible gasp...) - but anyway, unfortunately in the set up I’m angling for where romana has to be comatose for a while, I think I am going to have to make narvin really sad… because as you say, he and romana have been through so so much pre-unity and this whole circumstance is a whole lot harder and more complicated than any of them really expected which really feels like saying something

but yeah, as for the other stuff in this document – a lot of notes on the dynamic between veega and romana, a whole list of song lyrics I intend to steal for titles, a frankly alarming and somewhat revealing amount of comments to myself that read like ‘leela’s so strong and buff’ ‘leela’s strong arms’ ‘leela fighting off raiders looking glorious’… like ok me! someone’s got an agenda…

there’s also two half formed fics, one which is about rayo and his relationship with the fact that he never knew his father, and that leela’s always a bit weird about him looking up to her as a mother figure because she’s got a shit ton of motherhood trauma, which is something I sure wish they’d stop doing to her :/

the other is like not that deep, it’s just veega and leela being kind of soft, as well as just trying to pack in a little bit of backstory just because I can but I also want them to be gentle and kind to each other – may well end up down the ‘you never said you were from gallifrey, how am I meant to trust you?’ route at some point, but for now, they’re soft and I love them <3 here’s an extract (though I wrote this before I thought about the language thing so it might change, but whatever):

Veega cannot look away. Their first coherent conversation goes round her head again, Leela proclaiming I will protect you even though she could barely get up from the bed. I will get better and I will not let anyone hurt you. I owe you that.

It had felt funny at the time – after all, Veega had picked her up on the dirt plain looking hours from death. Veega has seen too many people lost on the plains, convinced that the city is closer than it really is, condemned to perish out of stupidity or confusion. Unity is not a friendly world.

And until now, seeing her there fighting the raiders off as easily as if she were picking flowers, Veega hadn’t been able to decide if Leela had been foolish or not to be wandering alone. She had seemed so lost.

laughter lines

my most beloved and longest held doctor/river song <3 by bastille: i'll see you in the future when we're older / and we are full of stories to be told / cross my heart and hope to die / i'll see you with your laughter lines

so the concept is like, post silence of the library and it’s 11, then 12, then 13 going back to the library in some attempt to get river back out, and like 11 and 12 both fail of course, because the time is not right or whatever, and then 13 realises that it’s not about trying to get her out – what she really wants is the chance to say goodbye properly, to say sorry for uploading her and abandoning her like that, so 13 uploads herself for a little while so she can see river again properly

looking at it, actually I wrote way more than I remember doing – it’s been easily a year since I last opened this document, and indeed far longer since I started it, so it probably needs a real revamp before I were to post it – look at me talking about proofreading! that’s something that does not happen with me as often as it ought to… it’s a miracle any of flowers for tardises actually makes sense…

maybe I ought to finish this fic after all one day. i’m coming up on husbands of river song on my rewatch, maybe that’ll get me going for it again (or maybe not. I think I’m firmly living in leela/romana land for the foreseeable…)

will you be my future or just an escape

another bastille song... those nights when you crave someone / to be there at dawn, to wake with 'cause aren't we all just / looking for a little bit of hope these days?

this fic is about 17k long and it is the most stream of consciousness bullshit i have ever written in my whole life - it is entirely entirely unpublishable and i wrote it over like three months last year after binge-listening to a bunch of the unit audios and when i was very strongly on that sja kick, and i made the ill-advised decision to watch downtime again and i just said to myself ‘i need to write something with them right now or else’

and then i did... it’s just sarah and kate trying to pretend they’re too professional to be falling in love even though literally everyone else can see it and they’re doing a terrible job of hiding it, and it’s all like, the stresses of a high-pressure world-saving job and the fact they both have trauma about losing the people they were meant to be protecting and therefore believe they can’t allow themselves to actually commit to letting someone else in, because that becomes a Responsibility then and they can’t deal with the idea of letting someone in only to get them killed. and also they kiss a lot <3 it’s peak ‘write what you want to see’ and i think that’s pretty sexy of me

will i ever finish this fic? who can say…

#tagged whatnot #<3 #magicofthepen #i got an asking

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itwillbeall-dwight · 4 years

Text

twilight fog

quentin smith & jake park; no tws unless you count freddy; 1482 words

a/n: TUMBLR. DELETED. THE ASK. AS I. WAS. EDITTING MY POST.

N E WAYS, i hope this gets out to you anon! this was a lot of fun for me to write, considering how much i love quentin and how indifferent i am to jake. i didn’t write it intending for it to be romantic but if you wanna interpret it as such, you may do so!

drabble reqs are open, so if you want something, feel free to send me an ask! likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: But he wasn’t done. As he let the sleeve of his shirt go from his fingers, and reached behind him to grab his jacket and rest it on his lap, he found himself speaking again. “What’re you doing here?” “Wish I could tell you.” “...No, not like… here, just. Here. With me.” “It’s my thinking tree.” “Huh?” Without looking behind him, Jake moved his shoulder and pointed to the tree bark just behind him. Sure enough, crudely carved with something blunt, his initials, JP, were right there. “...Shit, now I feel-” “Don’t.” The survivalist cut him off before he could finish, glancing up for a moment or two. “You needed it more than me. I can share.”

A four-man escape. Their best performance yet. So why was it that it was so hard for him to breathe?

Quentin rubbed his nose with the back of his sleeve, sure that the smell of the meat plant was going to get stuck up there, considering how long he’d hidden in the freezer for. Loud whoops from Kate as she slapped Jeff’s back in celebration, the poor man thrown off by the girl’s excitement but still grateful nonetheless, were drowned out by the familiar white noise tickling the back of his brain. The boy looked back to where their trial had just ended, and just beyond the ashy entrails that blocked entrance back in, he saw the familiar figure and the shadow of a claw, just… watching him leave. He saw it move, and one by one, its claws individually moving in a mocking, cutesy wave - see you, for now, until next time. And for a moment, it was if that hand was wrapped around his neck, and ripping the air he was trying to breathe out from his lungs.

Thankfully, the combination of a hyped-up Kate and just Jane herself, in general, was enough to let him sneak away. The campfire was loud, and the fog in the back of his head was getting louder. Quentin wrapped his arms around himself, cold wind shaking him to the core, or maybe, it wasn’t, because it seemed Freddy still had that core in a tight grip, ripping it to ribbons as he felt his knees get weak. Leaning a shoulder against a stray tree, he found himself sliding down to sit on the forest floor, leaves damp despite no rain, pulling his sleeves over his hands and gripping the fabric in a tight fist, just to feel something. It was hard to breathe, the fog was in his lungs and it felt like he was suffocating, and every time he closed his eyes to will himself to take a breath, all he saw was twitching claws and hear the haunting lullaby that followed him in his dreams. But he was awake, he had to be awake. ...Was he awake? Oh god, was he awake-

“Taken?”

The voice scared him, physically feeling himself lurch as he looked up as Jake’s face, light hitting his back and casting his shadow over Quentin. “Uh, no, c-come over.” Please don’t, he silently begged.

But he didn’t pay attention to those unspoken pleas, the survivalist taking a seat beside him on the floor, opening to toolbox he’d brought with him, and slowly sorting through it. Metal hit metal as tools collided with the box and one another, his rummaging slow and meticulous.

Quentin rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Had Jake seen him crying? He must have, he was always a mess when he cried, the whole works. He kept rubbing until his eyes hurt, throbbing from the soreness of canvas against skin, before he moved his hands to hold himself, scratching at his arm. What was he going to think? Jake was the silent pillar at the campfire, stoic, kept to himself but always had something to say about someone. Always watching. He probably thought he was weak, sat here on his own like this. Surely he-

“Knock it off.”

He paused his thoughts to look up, a bit startled as Jake was now looking at him, a spanner in his hand. A quiet sniffle. “S-sorry, I can’t-”

“No, your arm.” He pointed, and only now did Quentin notice that the jacket had torn, blood staining where a claw had dragged across his skin, now drying. The skin underneath was raw, red and inflamed from the repeated scratching, and blood had gotten all over his hands and fingernails. “‘Don’t get infected here, but good practise. If we get out.”

“Ah, I… guess.”

Jake stared, frowning a little deeper than he was at default, before he put the spanner he was holding back into the toolbox and moved his hands to the back of his neck. “Take off your jacket.”

“W-what?”

“I said-”

“N-no, no, I… I heard you, I’m just...” He trailed off, not really sure how to explain his thought process when he could barely understand it himself, between the brain fog and the white noise, and how much the wires in his brain were naturally crossed when it came to conversation.

The other survivor looked away for a moment, seemingly focused on whatever he was doing with his hands, which turned out to be undoing his scarf from around his neck. He seemed so naked without it. “I was gonna wrap your arm, just until you decide when you wanna go back.”

So they hadn’t noticed he was gone, so Jake wasn’t sent to come after him. Huh. “Ah… right, sorry.” And so Quentin did as he was told, letting his jacket fall on the floor behind him as he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt a little, watching Jake tie the scarf around his lanky arm with expert precision.

He nodded as he finished, quickly moving his hand away and going back to focusing on the toolbox he’d brought with him, seemingly wanting nothing else to do with Quentin.

But he wasn’t done. As he let the sleeve of his shirt go from his fingers, and reached behind him to grab his jacket and rest it on his lap, he found himself speaking again. “What’re you doing here?”

“Wish I could tell you.”

“...No, not like… here, just. Here. With me.”

“It’s my thinking tree.”

“Huh?”

Without looking behind him, Jake moved his shoulder and pointed to the tree bark just behind him. Sure enough, crudely carved with something blunt, his initials, JP, were right there.

“...Shit, now I feel-”

“Don’t.” The survivalist cut him off before he could finish, glancing up for a moment or two. “You needed it more than me. I can share.”

The harshness of his affirmation made Quentin stop, mouth hanging with another excuse on the tip of his tongue before he decided it would be best to drop it again, not wanting to drag on the pity. He looked down at his hands, to his own blood on his fingertips, gently tugging at the sleeves. “What’re you… thinking about?”

“Hm?” He looked up again.

“You said this was your thinking tree, so what are you thinking about?”

Jake looked away for a moment, down at his toolbox, before glancing back up and shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno.”

He didn’t know what else he expected, really. Still, it made him laugh a little, still shaking a bit, and for a moment he swore he was Jake’s mouth tug into an ever-so-slight smile.

They didn’t say much else after that, and the sound of rummaging tools was more of a comfort than anything anxiety-inducing, enough that Quentin had even taken to watching him sort (he would have closed his eyes and listened, but he couldn’t bear to do it, not here, not now) with precision.

“What’re you missing?”

“Hacksaw. Think we have a few spare, I don’t know.”

“Oh, we do. I think David brought one back a few trials ago.”

Jake hummed, nodding to himself as he put everything back again, picking the wet leaves off every so often.

The boy watched him again, looking up to analyse his face for a moment, before he continued. “Uh… thanks.”

The box snapped shut, the mechanism locking as he flicked it up and over the latch again, as the survivalist looked over, eyebrow raised.

“Well, just- for the… scarf,” He lifted up his arm, waving it around weakly before letting it rest again, elbow on his thight. “And, uh… being here.”

“I was coming here anyway. It’s fine. But…” Jake paused, tapping a gloved hand on top of the metal box resting in front of him. “You’re, uh… welcome. Just- don’t… do this again. People are gonna ask. You probably dont wanna talk about it. So, I dunno, if you feel… bad. I’m- well, I’m not good, but-”

“I think this is the most I’ve heard you say in one breath.”

Jake was caught off guard by that, and then, Quentin was entirely sure he smiled at him. “Yeah… guess so.”

So he didn’t have to have an impromptu therapy session yet, at least. Jake knew something was up, but he wasn’t going to ask… nor was he forget about it either. But that wasn’t as unnerving as it should have been. Because now Jake kept an eye on him, and little by little, there were cracks starting to show in that cold exterior he’d put on for so long. So, in a way, the worst of it had brought on a new era at the campfire. The one where Quentin could close his eyes and smile, and the one where Jake could finally connect with someone.

#dead by daylight #quentin smith #jake park #parksmith #(i suppose)#off the record #prove thyself

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Roguish Women Part 10

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 9: Kate and Tommy meet Alfie Solomons.

Kate did her best to support Tommy on their walk to the Yard. The sky was clouded so there wasn’t much light to go on. They were slow-moving with Kate trying to keep him upright and to make sure he didn’t fall or misstep on the uneven streets.

When they made it, Tommy opened the gate and staggered through the entrance. “Curly!” He called hoarsely. “Get that stuff for when their legs go lame.”

“Tommy?” Charlie looked aghast at the sight of his nephew. “They said you’d be in for another three weeks.” He pulled up a chair.

“I need to get on a boat to London, now.”

Kate frowned. “Tommy, you didn’t say anything about London. You need medical attention!”

“The lass is right, Tom, you’re burning up.” Charlie agreed.

Tommy just shook his head, the motion throwing him a bit off balance. “I need to sleep in the open air. Do you have a boat here?”

Kate ran a hand through her uncombed hair. She glanced behind her to where the gate was ajar. She could just go back home, get under the covers, leave Tommy to his own work. If he wanted to be a lunatic, he could do it on his own. But abandoning him didn’t feel right.

Coughing from Tommy brought her back to the conversation. “If I sleep all the way, it’s Camden Town we’re headed for.”

Kate helped him stand up. “Why are we going there?”

But he wasn’t ready to explain anything quite yet. “Tell Polly she’s in charge while I’m away. If I don’t come back, tell her she’s in charge for good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It stunk of canvas and cigars under the covered boat. But Kate knew she had to watch Tommy. He slept for a good deal of the trip, only stirring every so often when the boat rocked.

In the faint candlelight, she could finally take in his injuries. Nearly his entire face was swollen from the beating he’d taken. The way he slept too made it evident that he was sporting at least a few broken ribs.

Kate didn’t have much of a nurturing background but she felt she could at least get Tommy to last the few days it would take to get to London. She kept a cold cloth on his face to try and help his fever. Every few hours she tried to get him to wake for a drink of water. He was mostly incoherent until they were two days in.

He began to sit up for longer periods of time and could hold a better conversation with Kate. More than just mumbles and groans of pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here.” Kate handed him his cigarettes. “Halfway there, ‘least that’s what Curly says.”

“Thank you.” He replied quietly.

“So, can I finally know why I’m on a boat headed for London?” She sat down near him.

Tommy struck up a match and took a few puffs of his cigarette before answering. “Alfie Solomons.”

Kate recalled the Shelby boys telling her that name a long time ago. “He’s a bookie.” She remembered.

He nodded. “Ready to do business with him.”

“And why do you need me to come along?” None of it made much sense to her.

“He’s not just a bookie. He makes rum as well, so I’ve heard. And you know a bit more about the American market. Things he might be interested in knowing.”

“So, you want me to help you help him smuggle rum into the states?” She connected the dots. “And this couldn’t wait until you were healed?”

Tommy shook his head. “I’ve got men after me. After our trip to London, we’ve stirred the pot.”

Kate just sighed and shook her head with a smile. “I had a feeling you would. But I’m not one to tell you, ‘I told you so’.”

“That’s why I like you.” He paused to take a couple more drags of his cigarette. “So, you’ll help me?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” She stood up, or at least as most as she could inside the boat, and grabbed a cloth. “Will you let me clean your cuts?”

“Best they don’t get infected.” Tommy lowered his cigarette and let her start to dab at the cuts on his face. “Fever’s going down so is the swelling in your eye.” She observed. “It’s full of blood though.” It was unsettling to see blood pooling around the striking color of his blue iris. “You just need to be careful.” She checked the cut on his cheek. “This is the deepest one.” She remarked.

“Will it scar?”

“Most likely. It might fade over time if you leave it alone.” Kate had her experience with scars over the years. Most of them she hid cleverly with clothes or makeup. But bare in front of the mirror, she looked like she’d been to war. She went back over to wash the blood from the cloth. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Tommy grunted as he laid back down. “Not yet.”

“Get some sleep then.”

~~~~~~~~~`

“Tommy!” Curly called from the helm of the ship. “We’re in Camden Town now!”

Kate emerged from beneath the canvas with Tommy behind her. She smelled the smoke and soot that was common to London. Birmingham was bleak but London was teeming with ill will. She could feel it in the air.

The second they docked; men were there to question them. Tommy explained they were there to see Alfie Solomons. The men, all wearing hats or yarmulke ushered them to a large warehouse building. People were going in and out, busy with shipments.

At the front doors, Kate and Tommy were greeted by a young man with curly hair. He instantly went about patting Tommy down to check him for weapons.

He glanced at Kate but she simply crossed her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t even ask if I were you.” She warned.

“Put ‘em down, Ollie.” A rough voice came booming down the hall.

Kate glanced around Ollie to see a broad-shouldered man heading towards him. He certainly didn’t look the part of a large gang boss. Wearing a simple, disheveled linen shirt, vest, and an apron around his waist, Alfie Solomons looked like a common worker at first glance. But Kate had learned from her time as a courtesan to look beyond clothing. She’d been taught by some wise women that anyone could dress the part of a gentleman. The real money and the real identity were down to the details.

Alfie wore rings on nearly every single finger. He had a gold bracelet on his wrist. A gold pocket watch was attached to his waist. Glasses hung from his neck on a chain that looked like pure silver.

Wealth aside, he had the tells of a very dangerous man. Tattoos inked both of his hands. A large scar ran down his right cheek. He carried himself like a soldier. Just as Tommy did.

“You always bring women along to meetings with you?” Alfie raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Rosseau’s a part of me company and I think her knowledge could be very useful to you, Mr. Solomons,” Tommy replied. “I think you’ll see that she’s not any ordinary woman.”

Mildly interested Alfie nodded and beckoned them over. “Want to take a look at my bakery? We bake all sorts. We bake the brown bread, the white bread.”

Kate took stock of what they were dealing with. Beyond Alfie’s strength on the tracks, the distillery wasn’t anything to snub. The warehouse was stocked full of barrels but she had a feeling production could increase if the market allowed them to. Tommy was right, Alfie’s rum could be ready to ship out to America any moment.

“Try some bread, love?” Alfie redirected Kate’s attention to a table with bottles.

“I’ll have the white.” She agreed.

“Ah, see there. There’s a woman who knows her booze, aye?” He chuckled and handed her the glass. “C’mon then.” He continued them on to his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was worried about Tommy’s health as they sat down in front of Alfie’s desk. He was in a much better condition but he was still limping and she could tell his ribs were bothering him. Still, she knew he needed to maintain a strong image in front of the Camden Town boss. So, she tried to ignore it.

“Well.” Alfie sat down. “I’ve heard very bad, bad, bad, things ‘bout you Birmingham people. Aye?” He tutted. “And you, love, don’t know where you fucking came from with that accent, right, but you’re hanging ‘round with them, ain’t ya? You a gypsy like him then? They have gypsies in America?”

Tommy spoke before Kate had the chance. “Kate and I came to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.”

Something changed in Alfie’s expression. His brow furrowed and his sea-colored eyes flicked to her. “Kate, is it?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Funny, that is. Yeah…I’ve got ears everywhere in London, right? I hear things. Things I need, things I don’t. Don’t fucking matter, I remember every bit of it. Just in case, think that’s savvy, innit?” Alfie ran a hand over his beard as if he were pondering something deeply. “And there’ve been rumors, whispers ‘bout a man from America. An Italian who’s looking for someone.”

Kate’s blood ran cold and she fought the instinct to run. Unsure if it was a trap, she subtly glanced to Tommy. He seemed a little uneasy by where the conversation was going too. But he touched her chair as a gesture of assurance.

“Pretty blonde woman named Kate Lynch. Should be living in Birmingham. Says she’s American by birth.” Alfie continued.

She smiled at him. “My last name isn’t Lynch, Mr. Solomons.”

“Oh, but we can all change our names. Can’t we? To, er I dunno, avoid coppers, debts, jilted lovers, aye?” Alfie’s eyes narrowed. “So, what was it then? You leave ‘im at the altar? Ran away with his kid? Ran away with another man?”

“I think she’s unsure of what you’re talking about, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy stepped in.

“Well, see the thing is, you walk into me office, right, with a woman who’s wanted by Italians.” Alfie retorted firmly.

“She’s got ties to the American markets. Men who would be interested in your rum.”

Alfie fiddled with the handle of one of his drawers. “So that’s what you’re tryna sell me then?”

“My services could be offered to help smuggle your rum anywhere you’d like. I propose we join forces.”

“Fuck off.” Alfie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair. “No! Fucking ridiculous.”

“Mr. Solomons.” Tommy leaned forward. Kate noticed him wince. “Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent, the rest is from the tracks. I’m offering you two solutions. You expand your market to America with your rum with the help of Miss Rosseau. I’d help with that as well. Me other solution deals with your biggest problem.”

Alfie glared back at Tommy. The man continued to glance at the drawer to his right. The movements were making Kate uneasy and she subtly moved her hand into her purse, wrapping her fingers around her pistol.

Tommy continued. “I know you offer a deal or death. But Mr. Sabini is running all your bookies off your courses and closing down premises that take your rum. No one trusts your protection anymore.”

Alfie pointed at him. “You’re the bloke who shot Billy Kimber, right?” He diverted the conversation. “You did, you fucking betrayed him, mate. So it would be entirely appropriate to do what I’m thinking in me head right now.”

That was an open threat to Kate and she tensed up.

Tommy wasn’t swayed. “I can offer you a hundred armed men and a new relationship with the police.”

“Intelligence,” Alfie ignored him. “Is a very valuable thing, innit? Usually, it comes far too fucking late.” He shifted his left hand down and whipped out a gun.

Kate reacted before Tommy could even breathe. She took out her gun and pointed it back at Alfie. Her heart was beating in her chest but her hand was steady.

It wasn’t clear on Alfie’s face whether he was expecting her to be armed or not. But he didn’t back down either. “So, she’s just your purse for weapons, is she, mate? Men don’t want to frisk a woman so you give her a gun.”

“I’m not an object,” Kate replied through her teeth. “I’m just smart enough to know when I need a gun.”

Alfie’s mustache twitched and he cocked the gun. “See, I could’ve already shot him. Right in the fucking head. Then what? You’d shoot me, aye? You’re really that loyal to ‘im already? What happens after that? Me men come in, maybe they shoot you. Maybe they take you and hand you over to the Italians. I know who you are. You’ve got an American mobster after you and who knows how much he’ll pay to have you returned.”

“I won’t be sold to anyone.” She hissed and cocked her gun in response.

Alfie just let out a chuckle and set his gun down. “You’d give me men hell, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t make it out alive, granted, but you’d try to kill anyone in your path.”

Kate slowly lowered her gun but kept it near. She looked at Tommy and saw that his nose had started to bleed. She reached into her purse for a handkerchief and gave it to him. She cleared her throat and looked back at Alfie. “If Italians are looking for me, so be it. They’ve been hunting me down for years, they won’t succeed. But for you, Mr. Solomons. What’s a bigger way to say fuck you than to work with someone they’ve been unable to get for so long? I have contacts in America, bootleggers, police, bosses. No one in the operation will be caught. No one will interfere with it. I don’t need a big cut of the money. The majority of it can go to you and Tommy. The only thing I ask for is protection. Contrary to what Tommy says, I trust your protection.”

Alfie studied her, stroking his beard. “So, you’d trust that I wouldn’t sell you out.”

Kate didn’t flinch, keeping her eyes right on him. “Every man who has tried is dead now.” She replied coolly. “So, I suppose that’s your decision.”

The Jewish man chuckled. “Draw up a contract then, Mr. Shelby. Include Miss Rosseau in it and we’ll discuss matters further.” He reached over to shake Tommy’s hand.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434

Masterlist

If you asked to be tagged in this fic and I forgot, just let me know!

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #alfie solomons

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thebeautyofdisorder · 4 years

Text

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 7

A/N: Okay, here is the next chapter finally. Nothing quite so... explicit as last chapter, but fun none the less. A lot of conversation/exposition, and Zoe may or may not be inadvertently sciencing her way into a crossover opportunity that I won’t take, but she does have a mind of her own, that one. Drac does a bit of grumpy pining.

Pairing: Dracula & Agatha/Zoe, Dracula/OFC

Rating: M, for blood, language, mercenaries with guns, and direct references to sexual acts performed in the last chapter.

Chapters 1-2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here - Chapter 5 Here - Chapter 6 Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE - or enjoy below the cut

“I don’t think she’s coming, sire.”

Dracula looked up from where he’d been absently staring off into the abyss - granted the abyss did look an awful lot like his front door, to meet the infuriatingly attentive gaze of Frank Renfield, as he stirred his tea, and pretended to peruse the morning paper.

“I’m sorry?” It was less of a question of clarification, and more a second chance to remedy his daring presumption, though apparently this did not occur to the lawyer at all.

“Dr. Helsing. I think she’s far more stubborn than even you give her credit for.”

“What exactly gives you the idea that I’m waiting for anyone, much less her?” he challenged, quirking a brow at his rather unwelcome company. He had asked for daily updates on his current investments, true, but it wasn’t necessarily his intention to have the man pop up at random hours of the morning to do so. Just because he could be a morning person now certainly didn’t mean that he actually wanted to be.

“I’ve never seen you so disinterested in sustenance when it’s right in front of you, unless she’s involved, of course.”

The vampire was very tempted to rip the knowing smile right from his skull, but barely managed to restrain himself out of sheer disinterest at working to find another malleable Londoner to do his business. Picking up his sadly cooled breakfast, he drained the glass simply out of spite and sat it back down with a force just shy from shattering it.

“I don’t pay you to psychoanalyze me, Frank,” he warned, barely concealed with a charming edge of fondness that came off even more menacing than any blatant threat, as he stood to his full height and paced over to the window.

The lawyer paled. “Yes, master.”

“What’s my schedule for this evening?”

“I believe you indicated you were finishing off your first experiment tonight, Count. The painter.”

“Ah. Yes,” he confirmed, even as he proceeded to juggle his mobile phone between his hands distractedly, mind somewhere else entirely. “I might...hold off on that for another week. Can’t be too hasty...I really don’t want anymore failures on my hands. And perhaps we should really begin to encourage the writing of wills in this process… When is that ‘natural burial’ movement going to be ‘en vogue’ over here, you think?”

“In a city this size? Hard to say…” Frank winced, seeming to fall silent far longer than necessary to think about it, and Dracula was really beginning to regret meddling with his mental faculties so much. It did, however, shut him up long enough for him to send a text to the woman he'd just been accused of thinking about.

HAVE YOU RECONSIDERED JOINING ME FOR DINNER?

After three minutes of silence, Dracula scowled and refocused on Renfield's babbling, which had taken back up after his initial, blissful silence. Something about 'death positivity' which brought a brief smirk to his lips. Just when he thought humanity had lost its sense of reality entirely.

You text like my grandfather.

The Count grinned in partial triumph. Partial because while she'd certainly replied, she didn't seem nearly as outraged as he'd dearly hoped. Would have to remedy that. Very soon.

BUSY?

Very busy. How did you get my number?

HUNGRY? 🍷

No.

LIAR.

Show off.

Renfield had the audacity to clear his throat.

-----

Peaking into the disheveled mass of books, vials, and files that had become the current state of Zoe Van Helsing’s office, Bloxham at first mistook it for empty. The lights were dimmed, and the chair behind the desk was not only lacking in an occupant, but instead was serving as an unsteady shelf for what looked to be a hundred-year-old phonograph.

“The sign specifically said ‘do not disturb’, didn’t it?”

Dr. Bloxham spun around suddenly, placing a hand to her chest in shock as her eyes adjusted to the far corner of the room, where a small pseudo lab seemed to be occupying the back corner. Zoe was standing still as a statue, frozen in the midst of studying a vial of a thick red substance by shining a black light through it. She stayed frozen.

“Jesus, Zoe you scared the shit out of me,” she remarked at first. “And actually it says ‘danger: enter at your own risk’ but it was so bloody dark in here I thought you’d gone home.”

“All the same, get out. I’m busy,” Zoe murmured tightly, and her colleague frowned, making no motion to leave as of yet.

“Zoe...you haven’t been coming to meetings, nor have you really spoken to anyone in a week. Is everything...alright?”

“Fine. Just dandy. Now get out, please.”

“Sarcasm, much? I’m just...worried.”

Zoe still hadn’t moved. In fact, she was forcing herself to stay rooted to the spot, or she wasn’t entirely certain what she would do. A sudden shuffling outside the door, however, pulled her away from her steely focus and her eyes shot up with inhuman speed to the door where a crack of light cut through the carpet.

“Who else is with you?” Zoe asked, eyes shooting towards the other woman directly for the first time since she’d entered.

Bloxham swallowed audibly, eyes darting quickly away to avoid eye contact.

“Look, our sponsor has been sending inquiries about this...situation, and we need to provide him with answers. I thought if I could get a glimpse of your research, we could figure out what it is you’re doing and give a proper update…"

“Dr. Bloxham… Kate I really need you to go. My research is mine and until it’s complete, I have no interest in sharing it,” Zoe stated firmly.

Dr. Bloxham advanced forward a step. “But Zoe-”

Zoe’s grip on the vial in her hand tightened and the glass gave a warning crackle that froze the shorter woman in her place.

“Leave!” The words came out in nothing short of a growl, and had the exact opposite effect on the situation that she’d intended or hoped.

The door swung the rest of the way open with a deafening bang and two large men with guns came in behind Dr. Bloxham, only halting their approach at the raise of her hand.

“That won’t be necessary boys, thank you,” she stated with carefully practiced calm, even though Zoe could hear the thrumming of her pulse hitting an anxious high speed. She forced her fingers, which had flexed into something resembling claws, to relax, though her spine stiffened further. Would guns hurt her? Maybe, maybe not but it would certainly lead to a load of inconvenience even if they didn’t - more so if they didn’t, she decided.

Ignoring the intrusion completely, even as they seemed to stand down, Zoe addressed Bloxham directly. “Is this really where you’re going with this? I’m not an animal, Dr. Bloxham. In fact, I’m doing everything in my power to avoid that outcome, and would like to continue to do it in peace.”

She slammed the glass beaker down and against better judgement beckoned her reluctant colleague forward.

“Come. Look.”

She hesitated, but gesturing a casual hand back at the men at her back, she approached Zoe, who distinctly moved out of the way entirely.

“What am I looking at?”

“Just a basic five-senses test, Doctor, what do they tell you?”

Kate leant down at eye level with the beaker, perusing it, picking it up and shifting the substance around, taking a whiff of it.

“It smells, looks, and behaves like blood. De-fibrillated, if I had to guess - from who or what I don’t know.”

Zoe looked minutely pleased, though was still almost robot stiff as she handed a folder over to her.

“It’s a protein and nutrient compound. I'm running a few...tests to see if I can find a supplemental vampiric food source. The information is all there."

Bloxham took the folder with a glance of astonished intrigue, and greedily began to look over the contents, forgetting about her intimidation tactics. Momentarily, at least.

"Could this actually work?"

"To keep them alive...yes, potentially. Or to ward off the cravings and reduce the need to result in homicide, at the least. As for the grander implications… I don't know."

"You need a subject."

"I am the subject."

The other doctor nodded briefly, biting her lip and pacing back towards the desk, folder still in her hands.

"You think he's infecting others?'

"I know he is," Zoe scoffed, the distance between them making it somewhat easier to function. To breathe, however much she still could.

"And have you run any trials yet?"

"With a couple more tweaks, I was planning to start this evening."

Bloxham gestured with her eyes toward the phonograph, and the exceedingly out of place stack of various religious texts and mythos.

"These?"

"Doing some updates on my great grandfather's research. None of which is replaceable, ergo my want for privacy."

She nodded, understanding but not commenting. It was one of the things Zoe always appreciated about her - she never spoke without thinking first.

"I would like you to run this as an official experiment in the lab, if only for the sake of an external eye. First hand trials are never 100% accurate - we both know that. You can't afford to miss something. If you feel...unsafe with the others, we can isolate you where you can still be observed - at your discretion, of course. And all of your private research will remain that way, you have my word."

Zoe pursed her lips into a thin line, weighing her options. Who was she kidding, she didn't have options. She had partial control or none at all; a glass box or an autopsy table. This was a negotiation of surrender.

"All right. Fine."

-----

“...The second son of Vlad II became ruler of Wallachia in 1436, leading to one of the bloodiest but most successful reigns in Romanian history simply by fearful reputation alone. Drakula as he was often called, in his day simply in honor of his father meaning 'Son of the Dragon'. Now it just adds to his legend, since 'Dracul' in modern Romanian more accurately translates to Devil. A very literal interpretation of dying a hero or living long enough to see yourself becoming The Villain ™ …"

Kat skimmed the notes for at least the fifth time, mindlessly chewing her nail polish off her thumb in a manic, nervous habit she thought she'd squashed at 16. She hadn't made it to class that morning - hell, she didn't even hear her alarm. It had blared for three hours before her mind swam its way back to consciousness.

He'd been gone when she awoke finally, the mid-morning sun streaming harshly through her curtains. He left her a note, written in comically perfect cursive on the back of a concert flyer, with his mobile number scrawled across the top, laid on her bedside table atop the book he'd brought her.

I had to run for a meeting early. Enjoy the book. - D

P.S. I did try to fix your shelf, though I do believe I owe you a new lamp.

Her cheeks were still burning hotter than her coffee as she later sat down to email her professor, claiming sudden illness and begging a forward of his notes. Luckily he was a pretty laid back type or it would have been twice as humiliating to think she was effectively calling in due to being fucked into oblivion.

She'd barely recalled being conscious after, though she knew she had been. Though the memory of laughing off the wall-pounding complaints of her next door neighbor was swimming interchangeably with the images of her very bizarre dream. At least she'd assumed it was a dream - men sprouting fangs was clearly her orgasm-delirious brain reacting to last week's ill-timed Buffy marathon and too many re-readings of Legends of the Carpathians. It had to be.

That was her logic anyway, up until she looked at herself in the floor length mirror after jumping in the shower, and found herself marveling there far too long. She wasn't one to complain about a hickey or two, but her fingers trailed the jagged white indentation of teeth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder - a pale slash interrupting the bruised flesh - and shivered. Red, stripe-like lines trailed the length of her legs and hips, unfaded and tangible. There was even still a red gash-like mark on her shoulder where the strap of her camisole had dug into her flesh as he ripped it like it was made of crepe paper.

Her mind returned to those notes, lingering on the name 'Drakula' far too long without coming up with a real reason to be so concerned. It could be an ancestor or a weird inside joke of an alias she had missed. For all she knew of Romanian customs it could be a fairly common name there now.

"Impaled by Vlad the Impaler...ridiculous," she joked, half audibly to herself

"I quite like the sound of that."

A bonafide squeak of surprise rose out of her throat, though she didn't have the time to be humiliated as the tall shadow of the man himself showed up in the mirror behind her, taking up the whole of her bedroom door frame.

"Apologies, it was unlocked. I did knock to be fair, but I can see why you didn't hear." His eyes were locked on her body still dripping from the shower, a towel barely clasped around to cover the important bits.

Kat quickly caught her breath, forcing a chuckle. "No, it's...alright. I was just trying to...go over my notes," she excused, gesturing to where her laptop sat open on the desk in the corner.

"Didn't make it out of bed this morning," She shot him a look of playful accusation, before turning back to the mirror, already dismissing her earlier fears now that she was seeing him in broad daylight for the first time. He was definitely not a big pile of dust, or if he was he was the most attractive one she'd ever seen.

He made a show of wincing. "I suppose that was my fault." He paced forward, meeting her eyes through their reflections as he approached, tracing a finger down the side of her neck and over her shoulder, skimming the harsh redness. "This definitely was."

Her breath stuttered audibly and she felt her lower muscles clench almost painfully just at the barest reminder of his presence.

"Yeah...you… go a bit feral, don't you?" She breathed, fingers tracing her legs as well.

"You do make a lovely canvas." He smirked lightly, but other than meeting her reflection's gaze, he looked away from the mirror entirely, and brushed his lips over the bite mark as he turned away.

Well, he certainly has a reflection, she couldn't help but muse as she remembered to breathe, watching his backside as he paced over to the laptop casually.

"I see you're onto the 15th century."

"Yes… family of yours?" She prodded with mild curiosity, as she adjusted the towel.

He was silent for a moment , as though debating just how directly to answer.

"Something like that," he seemed to settle with, and despite lifting a curious brow she didn't pry. Something in his eyes brooked no reproach, as funny as that felt to think.

"I unfortunately need to be going again," he added before she could think of any further inquiry, or pounce on him again as she was half wont to do.

"I mainly just came to replace your lamp," he said, stepping back to the hall and pulling up a bag he had left on the floor, offering it to her.

She couldn't help but laugh as she took it from him.. "Why thank you."

Not that she could ever look at the bloody thing again without remembering knocking it onto the floor to smash into pieces as he pounded her into next week. Though judging from the demonic glint in his eyes as he pressed an otherwise chaste kiss to her knuckles in farewell, that was exactly what he'd intended.

----

She felt him before she saw him. It was both refreshing and annoying that he couldn't sneak up on her anymore, even if it just meant a few more minutes of blissful ignorance before he intruded on her evening.

"You shouldn't be here."

He was even more annoyed by it if the disgruntled sigh was anything to go by. He remained at a distance in the shadows nonetheless.

"Neither should you, Zoe," Dracula warned in a tone that was so low, it was almost genuine in its concern. "I know what you're doing, at least in part, and while the effort is admirable it's not going to work."

"And how would you know?" She snapped, frustration lacing her words as she tried desperately to keep her eyes on the screen in front of her. "Have you ever even tried not killing anyone? Of course not, because you enjoy it too much. You're a monster and that's how you like it." She slammed a few keys with audible force.

Dracula scoffed, approaching from the shadows with an affronted air. "What do you call what I've been doing?! I would think you'd appreciate the gesture."

Her eyes narrowed, incredulous confusion colored by exasperation. "I'm sorry, are saying you attempting not to murder half of London is supposed to impress me?"

"Yes, of course."

At that she couldn't help but laugh, for probably the first time in months, though it contained plenty of Agatha's sardonic mirth as well.

"You really are a 500 year old infant, aren't you?"

His lips formed into an exaggerated pout, barely masking his amusement. "Is that what she's said about me?"

"Among many other things, yes," Zoe confirmed dryly, standing to her feet. They both knew he was speaking of Agatha, though whether he knew about the letters she wasn't sure, nor did she want to bring it up. Not yet.

"And what about the girl who's throat you almost ripped out last night? Or did you? Was that out of spite or just the chance to show off?"

"She's perfectly fine. Actually I would say I improved her night immensely ." The lascivious tone was blatant and twice as irritating as he leaned over the desk towards her.

Her nostrils flared as the breath expelled through his words lingered between them, smelling of blood.

"You're revolting." She despised that the words came out in a gasp.

"And deep down, you enjoy it."

"Like I enjoyed cancer."

He smirked, though there was a bitter edge of impatience to it.

"They're going to try to kill you, you know. And you don't have the strength to fight it."

"Then I suppose I'll die," she dismissed, just to irritate him. In truth it was something she was concerned with as well, but the last thing she wanted was for him to know it

He scowled briefly though it manifested as more of a snarl, pulling a hip flask from his pocket and placing it on the desk between them. An offering, given in silence.

Zoe barely looked at it. "And which one of your conquests did that come from?"

"Leading hematologist in London - willingly donated in a sterile, medical setting - very much alive and happily at home with his idiotic family as we speak. If and when you could use the boost - or the expertise."

"Not necessary," she ground out, doing her best to ignore its presence entirely. Not to mention the implication he was even offering assistance in his selfish, convoluted way, despite his opposition to her plan.

Dracula could have opened it and left her with no choice, but he didn't. Instead, he straightened to his full height and met her eyes again with a sigh as he made his way back towards the door. Where he’d actually gotten in without notice, she had no idea, and she’d rather not think about it..

"Good luck, Dr. Helsing," he bade her farewell, unable to resist adding sardonically: "You'll need it."

----

Sooo... Zoe’s kind of trying to invent True Blood, and I’m a whore for Drac being a suck up (no pun intended). This is going to get...interesting.

Tag List: @break-free-killer-queen @mephdcosplay @charlesdances @punk-courtesan @crowley-needs-a-hug @hoefordarkness @bellamortislife @malkaviangirl @imagineandimagine @chelsfic @my-fanfic-library @mymagicsuitcase @littlemessyjessi @desperatefrenchwriter @crazytxgradstudent @ginevra-weasley @iloveclaesbang @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @carydorse @hyacinth-meadow @vampiregirl1797 @dreamerkim @gatissed @alhoyin @girlonfireice @dracula-s-bride @festering-queen @jangleprojet @ss9slb

#bbc dracula #dracula bbc #dracula 2020 #dracula #claes bang #agatha van helsing #zoe van helsing #my writing #the undone & the divine

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es-mentiras · 4 years

Video

youtube

I Can't Stop Watching Contagion | Folding Ideas

Coping with crisis in the real world by confronting it in fiction

[O]ne purpose of fiction is that it allows us a space to practice intense emotions and states without exposing us to the complexities or harms of those states in reality. ... Watching a disaster film in a disaster, particularly one as sociologically driven as Contagion, is an extension of this. Rather than practicing intense emotional states before they happen, this instinct of exposing ourselves to what we’re already experiencing, amplifying existing emotional states, it works as a form of emotional inoculation. I am scared and anxious and uncertain, and so I will make myself more scared and more anxious and more uncertain, because it’s still fiction, it’s still safe, it still has an end. It is bounded. Things will get bad, things will then get worse, people will die. The world is unfair, it is unbalanced, it is unjust, and catastrophe will bring out both the best and worst of all of us. And then it will end.

...

There is an escapism to a story about horrible things, because that story is complete. It is bounded. It provides a framework to horror that doesn’t exist in the real present. Our future is uncertain, beset on all sides by devils, and we can come out better or we can come out worse or we can die and none of us knows which it will be and we’re all screaming at those in power to make the moral choice, to choose better.

...

On one hand I am deeply privileged to be in a position where I am and can remain isolated. On the other hand I can’t even think about the other hand.

Disease does not have a narrative meaning, it does not have an eye for poetry or twists or closure. The only meaning is in how we respond. So I watch Contagion over and over and over again. Because I need to practice emotions, and I need to live in a bounded world, and I need to believe we can choose better.

full video transcript under the cut:

[video is Dan Olson of Folding ideas lying on his couch, staring unmoving into the camera. scenes from Contagion are projected over him.]

VOICEOVER: This video is not an essay, it is a raw nerve.

Contagion is a 2011 film directed by Steven Soderbergh, starring an ensemble cast including Marion Cotillard, Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburne, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Kate Winslet. The film revolves around the origin, contraction, spread, and cure of the fictional MEV-1 virus, a highly contagious, aggressive, and fatal strain of hybrid bat and pig flu.

The initial patient, Beth Emhoff, played by Gwyneth Paltrow, contracts the virus in Macau after shaking hands with a casino chef who has recently handled an infected pig. She spreads the virus to several other people in the casino after they handle objects that she’s touched, such as gambling chips, a martini glass, and her cell phone. An important aspect of the film is that the fictional virus is highly transmissible via fomites, which are objects that an infected person has touched after touching their mouth or nose, coughing or sneezing on the object, or otherwise leaving infectious residue on an otherwise inert, non-biological object. A local waiter who handled her glass returns home, infecting members of his family before wandering into traffic in a fever-induced delirium where he is struck by a vehicle and killed. A Japanese businessman who shared chips with her returns to Tokyo where he falls ill rapidly, dying suddenly of a seizure on a crowded bus, infecting several bystanders who touch him or handrails that he touched. A Ukranian model who handled Beth’s phone flies to London where her symptoms also escalate rapidly while she transmits the disease to others via handling portfolios and riding in a cab.

Beth returns to America where she infects several people in Chicago, first her ex lover Jon who contracts it when they have sex while she is on layover, and a bartender at the airport who handles her credit card, before flying to Minneapolis where she infects the coworker who drives her home from the airport and her son Clark. A day or two later Beth’s husband, Mitch, played by Matt Damon, picks up Clark from school after Clark begins to exhibit a fever. While Beth and Mitch are talking in the kitchen Beth suddenly has a seizure. Mitch rushes her to the hospital, leaving Clark with a babysitter, but Beth’s condition continues to worsen, she fails to respond to treatment, and she dies. As a stunned Mitch is driving home he gets a call from the babysitter that Clark has possibly had a seizure and might not be breathing. Mitch tells her to call 911 immediately, but before anyone can get there Clark is already dead.

From there the story expands to encompass the doctors, politicians, reporters, hucksters, and ordinary people who are swept up in an all-encompassing pandemic that threatens to kill a quarter of the global population. The movie is an incredibly tense hundred minutes of society pushed to its breaking points, not as a fantastical disintegration into wastelands of leather-clad murder gangs or a zombie apocalypse, but one rooted in the historical reality of epidemics.

And I can’t stop watching it.

I have watched Contagion over fifteen times in the last two weeks. Several days I’ve just watched it on repeat two or three times. And I'm not alone. According to Netflix it is, at the time of writing, the second most watched thing in Canada. For weeks it has sat in the top ten.

Unlike many similar films, such as the 1995 film Outbreak starring Dustin Hoffman, the film is not about any one person, and there is no singular twist of victory. Rather it is an example of sociological storytelling. It’s about the systems and networks that these characters exist within, and how they both influence and are influenced by those systems, and what happens when those systems are placed under tremendous strain. Kate Winslet plays Dr. Erin Mears, a front line worker for the CDC who is sent to Wisconsin to track the transmission of the virus and contain its spread. Half way through the film she catches the virus herself, and then her condition worsens, and then she dies. It is unceremonious. It is not foreshadowed or paid off because it is not poetic, because pandemics are not poetic and don’t have a tight arc or an eye for narrative fulfillment. It doesn’t have meaning, the only meaning is in how we choose to respond.

Because this is sociological the movie doesn’t end when doctor Ally Hextall develops a vaccine. What would be the singular victory moment in most films is instead the beginning of a slow, painful march back to stability as first the vaccine needs to be mass produced, and then distributed to billions of people worldwide. It is a dangerous task that needs to be tightly controlled as it requires access to the isolated virus and thus is very slow to ramp up. The film trudges through the immense societal tension that is created when there is a cure, but it will take over a year to make and distribute enough for everyone, a situation that lays bare every societal privilege. Dr. Orantes, played by Marion Cotillard, is kidnapped and held ransom for the vaccine by Chinese villagers who are keenly aware that in the priority of global politics the poor, the rural, and the non-white are at the very back of the line. They are terrorists, but they’re not wrong, just desperate. They are at the back of the line, and the government throws them under the bus anyway. Despite the existence of a vaccine Mitch continues to keep his teenage daughter, Jory, under aggressive quarantine out of legitimate fear of the disease that has been amplified to paranoia by the trauma of losing Beth and Clark, the survivor’s guilt of being naturally immune, and the uncertainty of whether his daughter would share that immunity or not.

In December 2019 the coronavirus COVID-19 was identified by doctors in the city of Wuhan. Over the course of January and February the spread of the virus began to be identified in South Korea, Japan, and Italy and, gradually, most of the rest of the world. The disease itself is not exceptionally lethal when compared to epidemics such as the Black Death in the mid 14th century or the spread of Smallpox through indigenous populations following contact with Europeans in the 16th and 17th centuries, but, first of all, “better than the black death” is a pretty bad standard, and second on a global scale a mortality rate of 1-2 percent in an unchecked pandemic still means, in absolute terms, millions and millions of preventable deaths. This is compounded by the strain that mass illness, even one that is not terribly lethal, inherently places on an already strained society: crowding healthcare systems, disrupting infrastructure, and forcing people to choose between working while ill, and thus infecting others, or losing their jobs. A low mortality rate is often the result of adequate care, but the quality of care goes down as the number of severely ill goes up, as the number of infected healthcare workers reduces the number of people qualified and capable of administering that care. This, in turn, has a knock on effect where unrelated illnesses and injuries become more dangerous. A heart attack or broken leg that would be easily managed under normal circumstances becomes that much worse when there aren’t enough people to help, aren’t enough beds to go around. The more people who are exposed, the more need to roll the dice against that one to two percent, and the more are going to lose.

As of March 2020 most of the United States and Canada have entered a period of uncertain quarantining. Non-essential businesses are closed, events are canceled, workers are being sent home or laid off, borders are being shut down,and the economy is in freefall. Every existing societal problem, from income inequality to housing inequality to healthcare, is being stressed and amplified by not only the virus but the complicity of our governments. News comes out hourly about warnings the people in charge received months ago, and the ways in which they were either ignored or exploited for personal gain. Several American politicians were briefed on the security risks of COVID 19 in late January, and then took to Twitter to decry public fear as a partisan hoax while they dumped their stocks in preparation for a crash that they knew was coming. People in government, their corporate donors, and their pundit allies are getting anxious, debating breaking quarantine and telling everyone to go back to work and roll the dice on whether or not they’re going to die for the economy. We are standing on the precipice of a very uncertain future, and we don’t know if that future is days, weeks, months, or years away. This could be the new normal for a very long time.

So why do I keep watching Contagion?

A dimension of narrative that I like to bring up pretty regularly is the idea that one purpose of fiction is that it allows us a space to practice intense emotions and states without exposing us to the complexities or harms of those states in reality. This is typically in the context of the fanciful: reckless stunts, wild sex, gun fights, or general risky behaviour. We talked about this with Fifty Shades and the idea of non-consent as a fantasy subject.

Watching a disaster film in a disaster, particularly one as sociologically driven as Contagion, is an extension of this. Rather than practicing intense emotional states before they happen, this instinct of exposing ourselves to what we’re already experiencing, amplifying existing emotional states, it works as a form of emotional inoculation. I am scared and anxious and uncertain, and so I will make myself more scared and more anxious and more uncertain, because it’s still fiction, it’s still safe, it still has an end. It is bounded. Things will get bad, things will then get worse, people will die. The world is unfair, it is unbalanced, it is unjust, and catastrophe will bring out both the best and worst of all of us. And then it will end.

Is there looting, and arson, and murder? Yeah. But it is, ultimately, out of the ordinary. People get paranoid, people get desperate, they riot under stress, but even when food supply lines break down, the world isn’t summarily turned over to those with the bullets and the willingness to use them. There is no Mad Max dystopia, no Fallout post-apocalypse, because at the end of the day humans are pro-social. The cooperative survive.

In 1349, in the midst of the black death, it must have looked like the end of the world. Entire households, entire villages, dying a gross, horrifying, pain ful death, month after month after month. Then for generations, every year wondering if this was the year the plague returned. Was this the year there would be no one left to bury the dead. But people survived. The working class, who bore the brunt of the disease and saw the bodies of their families, clans, and communities piled like cord wood, fought back against the aristocrats who isolated themselves in their towers and remote estates. It was messy, and bloody, and it took decades, but in the end serfdom was abolished. Europe lost upwards of sixty percent of its population over the course of five years, but it wasn’t Armageddon. Things kept going, people kept going, and Europe would go on to be absolute bastards to the rest of the world.

The disease in Contagion is not unrealistic, real diseases have been as deadly, or worse, but it is dramatic. It moves very, very quickly, is highly contagious, and kills a huge number of those who are infected. In reality this aggressiveness would kinda work against the disease, and, morbidly, would help responders limit the spread. It moves so fast and kills so quickly that there’s little question of who has it, and within a couple days everyone who has it is either recovered or dead. This was the aspect of the SARS epidemic that allowed response teams to effectively quarantine the virus where it burnt itself out. That said it’s not impossible that something could spread so aggressively, be so incredibly contagious, that it could spread like wildfire and become almost impossible to contain before anyone even knows what’s going on. But it’s undeniably dramatic and emotionally effective.

48 hours. We can contain two days in our head. A situation where things will get materially worse literally tomorrow or the day after if nothing is done right this second, that’s a comprehensible timeline. Forty eight hours is short enough that in a catastrophe, driven by adrenaline and stress and necessity, you can stay awake that long without even realizing it. COVID’s life cycle is closer to a month. By the time you get sick you’ve already been sick for two weeks, and now you’re in for hell for another two to four weeks. It’s just past the range where it really feels real. Two weeks isn’t long, but it’s still over the line into the indeterminate “future”.

This problem extends in both directions. There’ s only so much space in the mind for time. As the news ramps up, as things get worse, the present crowds out history. The distance between the irrelevant past and the now contracts. ’Days ago’ becomes distant. ‘Months ago’ is irrelevant. Years ago is ancient. By evening even earlier the same day is suspect in its relevance to the Now. We remember January but it has as much presence in the mind as childhood. Our lives become superliminal, displaced from time, as we wrestle with our own minds and how they try to process the chronology of our own existence. By Sunday, Friday no longer feels real, and yet every day’s news is the consequence of decisions made fourteen, twenty one, twenty eight days ago. Today’s responses won’t yield results until well into next month. This flaw in our meat is a gap into which charlatans, hucksters, and conmen can drive a wedge and pry us open, and pry they will try.

When I first saw Contagion in 2012 I thought the weakest element was what I considered at the time to be the demonization of online media. Jude Law’s character plays an online pundit and conspiracy theorist who preaches to an audience of millions about an herbal tincture of forsythia that he claims is the cure, a cure he just-so-happens to be selling. It is, in 2020, the realest element of the film. Herbal cures, hydrogen water, steam treatment, teas, magnets, suspensions of silver, tinctures, and tonics. We’ve got pastors standing at the pulpit telling their congregation it's all a hoax, that there’s no reason to suspend services, that their nebulous enemies are just trying to shut them down. We now live in a world where the US president told people based on a rumour that chloroquine, a drug used for treating malaria and lupus, was the cure, so a man in Arizona ate a packet of fish tank cleaner containing the chemical. He’s dead now. And that is, again, all part of it.

And I am in an absolute haze. My daily life has not much been impacted, overtly. I’m already an agoraphobic shut-in wh o worksonline and has a bad sleep schedule. But it’s too much. I’m tired all the time. I can’t pay attention to the news and Ican’t not pay attention to the news. Working is difficult. I have a long history of respiratory illness. I am at risk.

On one hand I am deeply privileged to be in a position where I am and can remain isolated. On the other hand I can’t even think about the other hand.

[end transcript]

#i've seen a lot of posts like ''haha time to distract myself from irl horror with fictional horror!'' and i just wanted y'all to know #that that's a totally reasonable response to have; you're not weird for doing that. so this isn't precisely tma but i think it fits anyway #covid 19 #coronavirus #tma #horror #contagion

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alluremin · 5 years

Text

the bad in each other | 1

pairing | jeon jungkook x female reader

genre | zombie apocalypse au

premise | A year after the world goes to hell, you find yourself still alive by the grace of whatever watched over you. You’ve seen people you care about being torn to shreds before your eyes. You’ve seen horrors that, before the infection struck, you couldn’t have imagined. The place you once knew, called home, was gone. All that remained were the mindless dead and humans who had lost their humanity. Now, you can do nothing but protect those you love, no matter the cost.

warnings | angst, extreme violence, smut (future parts), swearing, alcohol use

word count | 5.1k

parts | intro • one • two • three • ?

playlist | inspo | character profiles

Their screams play on a loop in your brain. The smell of rotting flesh and gun smoke refuse to leave your nose. Jae’s footsteps crunch the fallen leaves on the ground, Kate briefly stumbles over a broken the railroad tie covered by the dead foliage. It’s been three days since it happened.

****

You, Jae, and Kate have been with a community since the start. Everybody called it “Safe Haven”, and it was just that. The large walls surrounding the rustic cabins and the fertile soil made for a sustainable community. Children, like Jae, laughed and played, all the while learning the ways of the new world. You all thought that you were safe from harm, from the dead, but you thought wrong. It was three days ago when a horde heard those laughing children inside your community walls and knocked them from their foundation. It’s been three days since nearly everybody you knew and love died right before your eyes, and you did nothing to help.

Jae and his mother came to the community a couple weeks after you and Kate. She was sick and without proper treatment, wouldn’t last the year. There weren’t a lot of you back then, the original members of Safe Haven were mostly men, hunters who lived their lives in the woods. Then there was you and Kate, med students who soon became healers in the community. Then there was Jae and his mother. You spent a lot of time with the, now 13-year-old, and his mom. She deteriorated quickly without her treatment, and a month after their arrival she passed. You had to take care of her after she was gone, you had learned what happened to people after they died, and Jae didn’t deserve to see her come back as one of them. Afterward, you took him under your wing and taught him all he needed to know, you promised his mom that you would.

****

You could feel your body swaying as you walked. When the three of you fled, you didn’t have time to fill your canteens or grab any food. You just grabbed your emergency backpacks and ran until the screams were far behind you. Exhaustion crept its way into your brain and everything around you went in and out of focus. Sounds are muffled, almost as if you were underwater. You don’t remember the last time you had a drink of water, slept, or eaten. Kate constantly questioned you if you had eaten any of the little food in your supply or if you’d even had a sip of the water in your canteen. You lied to her, you didn’t want her to worry about you on top of everything that you all had been through. In reality, you gave the last of your water and food to Jae, insisting that he take it, telling him that you had already had enough for yourself. You hadn’t.

Your head felt heavy, your feet starting to drag underneath you. It felt like there were cement blocks under your feet. The ground beneath you felt like it was spinning, causing you to stumble. You drop to one of your knees then and clutch the side of your head, shooting pain in your temple signaling you that something was wrong. Medical school, although you had only been in your first year, had taught you enough to know that you were battling the effects of dehydration.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jae, who was no more than a step behind you, crouches next to you and put a hand on your shoulder. His question prompts Kate to stop dead in her tracks and spin to face you.

“Oh shit, kid, what’s wrong?” You tried to giggle at her nickname she insisted on using all the time, but instead, only a heave of air comes out of your mouth. “Fuck, Jae do you have any water left?” He shakes his head in response. You close your eyes but are met with a slap on your cheek from your best friend. You knew what she was trying to do, keep you awake, keep you moving. Regardless of how hard you tried, you can’t keep your lids open, they felt heavier than cement below your brows. Under each of your elbows, you felt an arm lifting your body, Jae obviously on your right, he was shorter than Kate. You use all of your strength to move each of your legs, but it was as if you were wearing lead shoes. Black spots appeared in your limited vision, you could feel your legs give out beneath you. You could barely hear the muffled voices of the people carrying you, and you swore in the distance you could see figures approaching. You didn’t have enough time to determine if they were alive or dead before the world went black.

****

It felt as if the world had ceased to exist and you were just floating through nothingness. Every now and then, you’d catch small bits of conversation and brief flashes of light, but none that could tell you where you were. Maybe this is what happens after you die, your subconscious trying to piece together bits of information from your life. The medical side of you says that this is impossible, but who knows, maybe there is something after death. You hope that you’ll see your family again.

As quickly as the calm overtook your brain when you blacked out, did it go away. A loud ringing in your ears jolts your mind back down to Earth and a pounding headache replaces the subspace you were in not seconds before. All at once, every part of your body starts working again and when you open your eyes and are met with a wooden ceiling, you sit up as fast as your body will allow. This not only causes your headache to intensify but also brings about a headrush unlike any you had ever experienced.

“Whoa, not so fast,” a male voice you don’t recognize is accompanied by a push to your shoulder. “You’ve been out for three days, take it easy.”

You crack one eye open as the man presses your shoulders into the cushions of a couch beneath you. Not caring that moment for pleasantries, you swat his hands away from your body. This man was a stranger. “Jae? Kate?” Your hoarse voice yelps to your “family”, hoping that one of them would respond. In the corner of the room, a floorboard creaks, drawing your attention in that general direction. Jae stands and you meet his eyes as he runs over to you, falling on his knees in front of you and putting you in a crushing embrace. The strength in his scrawny body still surprises, but right now you don’t have the mental energy to tease him for it.

“I thought you were gonna’ die, y/n. You scared the shit out of me!” You pull back from him and move to sit up again, using the back of the couch to support your still weak body.

“Watch your mouth, Squirt,” you tease. The man standing next to you clears his throat, making his presence known.

“I’m Seokjin. My brother and I were out checking our rabbit traps when we saw you guys. Jae and Kate were trying to carry you, so I insisted to Jungook that we help you.”

“Uh, I’m y/n, but you probably already knew that… did you say three days?”

“Yeah, we’ve been spoon feeding you water and soup for the past couple of days. Every now and then you’d be conscious enough for us to get you some fluids, you know, without drowning you,” he sits down on the couch next to you, it’s the first time you take in his appearance. Seokjin’s hair is black, messy, and wavy. It almost looks as if he had been giving himself half-assed haircuts for the last year. He was wearing a simple grey t-shirt with a blue zip-up hoodie and a pair of black jeans. You noticed that he wasn’t wearing shoes and upon wiggling your toes, you found that you weren’t either.

“Thank you, um, Seokjin. Where’s Kate?” You didn’t want to sound ungrateful for everything this guy had done for you, but your best friend’s absence was panic-inducing.

“She and Jungkook went out to get wood for the fireplace. They’ll be back in a couple minutes.” His eyes met your own and he offered you a small small, You reciprocated to the best of your ability then broke eye-contact to take in your surroundings. Everything in the room was made of wood, so you deducted that you were in a cabin. From the small window to your right, you could tell you were still in the woods and the light flooding in told you it was daytime.

Jae had since moved from his spot on the floor to sit next to you on the couch. You put your arm around his shoulder and ran your fingers through his long hair, knowing that it was soothing for him. Ever since his mom had passed, you had used it to comfort him when he was upset. You could tell that the past six days were hard on him. First with what happened at Safe Haven, then with you. The bags under his eyes told you all you needed to know. He had ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’ on his lap. You found the book for him a few months back, but you were surprised to know it was one of the things he grabbed when you escaped from the horde. “Hey Jae, how much sleep have you gotten?” You questioned him.

“I’m not sure, not knowing what was gonna happen, I dunno’ it was hard to sleep,” he dropped his head and you pulled him into another hug. You let go of him them and stretch your stiff limbs and crack your neck, alleviating some of the pressure off of your body.

“It totally slipped my mind, but can I get you something? Water, food?” Seokjin stands and walks around the side of the couch to the kitchen behind you.

“Oh, actually do you know if there’s any ibuprofen or tylenol around here? Kate usually carried some in her bag. My head is just pounding,” you smile sheepishly at him, feeling guilty for asking more from him when he and his brother had already done so much for you.

“I can get it for you,” Jae announces. You smile at him as he scampers off to the corner of the room where all of your bags are stacked together. A tap on your shoulder alerts you to Seokjin’s presence behind you, offering you a bottle of water. A smile graces your lips as you take it out of his hands, grateful for his thoughtfulness. Jae returns to your side with a bottle of acetaminophen. You pop the lid off and pour four tablets into your palm, throwing them down your throat and gulping the water to chase the dry tablets.

“Isn’t four tablets a bit much?” Seokjin questions you, sitting down in a chair next to the couch.

“Overdosing on tylenol is the least of my concerns when it feels like my head is going-” You don’t get to finish your sentence when the front door to the cabin swings open at full force. A boy, no a man, who appears about your age, bursts his way into the cabin. The sound of the door slamming against the wall sends a splitting pain through your head, and you can’t help the glare that graces you face at that moment.

“Oh. You’re awake… it’s about damn time.” You can already tell that this guy is going to be peachy. Looking forward, you can already tell your future conversations with him aren’t going to go well.

You don’t have time to respond to him when Kate barrels into the apartment, dropping the firewood she was carrying outside the door and throws herself on top of you, crushing you in a bear hug. “You scared the shit out of me, kid. Don’t ever neglect yourself like that again or I’ll kick your ass, got it?” You can’t help but laugh at her empty threat.

“I love you too, Scooter.” She pulls back then, giving you an opportunity to turn your attention back to the boy in the doorway. He was closing the doorway, but you could tell he was doing everything in his power to avoid your eye contact. He sets the ax in his hands up against the door and drops his shoulder to remove the leather jacket adorning his body. You visibly gulp at the sheer size of the muscles on his arms and back. Not to mention the sheer amount of ink the covered his arms was not only impressive but also incredibly alluring. He turns around then, catching you gawking at the sheer amount of tattoos covering his body. He only scoffs and rolls his eyes. Peachy.

“Jungkook, I’m presuming?” You push underneath you on the couch then and stand to greet him. He only raises an eyebrow at you and offers a quick nod when you meet his eyes. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

“Yeah, well, since taking you in our food supply is running low. The last thing I want to hear from you right now is a thank you considering-”

“Jungkook, knock it off,” Seokjin stands from his spot on the couch then, but his mediation doesn’t stop your anger from rising.

“Listen, I’m trying to express my gratitude toward you guys. You don't have to be an asshole about it,” You sway your weight to one of your hips and cross your arms. You can hear Jae let out a small chuckle at your snarky remark and actions.

“Hey, this isn’t funny kid, we’re all going to starve if we don’t go out for a supply run soon!” He barely gets the sentence out before you’ve grabbed onto the front of his shirt and pulled him down so that he’s eye level with you.

“Say what you want to me, but don’t you ever, take to him like that,” you release your grip on his shirt and push him backward before walking back to the couch to sit with Jae and Kate. Seokjin slowly sinks back onto the chair as he walks Jungkook stomp down the hallway. The sound of a door slamming meets your ears and you sigh in discontent. That went well.

****

Over the course of the next 24 hours, you had become well acquainted with Seokjin. You could tell that he was a good person and always did his best to lighten to mood. Under the circumstances, some people might say that he was deliriously avoiding the realities of the world, but his antics were understandable. The jokes, the childish behavior; it wasn’t to avoid the problems that plagued the planet, it was to keep himself sane. He had that effect on others too. It had only been a week since you lost your home, but with Seokjin’s presence, coping became easier. You could tell it did the same for Kate and Jae.

Jungkook hadn’t left his room until the morning after your altercation, only joining the busy living room for a brief period of time to grab a bite to eat, then leaving as quickly as he had come in. He didn’t exchange a single word with any of you, only nodding in his brother’s direction when the latter offered Jungkook a pleasant, “Good morning!”

While you were all sitting around the dining table this morning, you told Seokjin that you wanted to leave. You were strong enough now and Jae and Kate were well rested. “We’ve been nothing but a burden to you and your brother, we can find somewhere else to go. We’re just gonna’ follow the train tracks until we come across a town.”

“Y/N, I’ve seen what you have left in your supplies, you’ll never make it and we don't have enough to spare here to give you a week's worth, especially when it comes to food. Don’t Jungkook’s attitude put you off, we haven’t been with other people since the beginning of everything. He’s never been very social, but he’s even more cynical of the good in humans after everything we’ve experienced.”

“I understand that. It’s hard to believe the good in people anymore. You’d think that we’d all try to look out for one another, you know considering the whole living versus the dead thing. We’ve heard stories of rogue communities ransacking other groups, shooting first, talking later.”

“I’d like to still believe that everybody has a shred of humanity. Like you guys. I could tell you we’re good people. I mean, Kate told me that you two took in Jae after his mom passed. Taking care of him like he was your brother.” You feel a pang in your chest as you remember your family, but you push your memories of them to the wayside. Mourning over them wouldn’t bring them to you.

“He had been with us since the start, of course taking care of him a priority. I’d like to believe that there’s good in most of us still too, at least when it counts. Are you sure it’s okay for us to stay? We don’t want to be a drain on your and Jungkook’s supplies. We’re not ones to overstay our welcome,” Kate cuts in.

“Please, stay. We need you as much as you need us. It's important that people like us stick together. Having numbers will make our lives easier, both in terms of defending ourselves, and collecting supplies. More people will make everything quick and easy.”

“I suppose, yeah. Thank you again, Seokjin for everything you two have done,” you smile in his direction.

“Call me Jin, we’re friends now. Seokjin is so formal,” he feigns a look of disgust at his statement.

“Alright, Jin it is then!” You stand from the table then and make your way to the corner of the living room where your bags were. “We should go through the supplies we have and see what we need before going on a run. I suppose you have a place in mind?”

“What do you take me for, an amateur? Of course, I have a place in mind,” Jin smirks at you from across the table as you drop two of the bags on top of it.

****

Not an hour later, you all find yourselves packing up the supplies you’ll need for your run into Jin’s black pickup. Jungkook had joined you shortly after you went through your bags, he had been listening to your entire conversation, entering the room listing off supplies he thought were necessary. You didn’t want to say you hated Jungkook, but he surely had a way of getting on your nerves. You tried to be civil with him, ignore the comment under his breath and his sighs whenever you would cut into a conversation, regardless of him being cold, you could tell he was a good person. He obviously cared about his brother, and other than when you first met, he was nice to Jae and Kate. Apparently, there was something about you that aggravated him.

The five of you loaded yourselves into the cab of the truck. The driveway on the front side of the cabin was at least 2 miles long, whoever had lived in the cabin before all of this liked seclusion, to say the least. Upon pulling out on the road, Jin put his upturned palm toward his brother in the passenger side. The younger boy let out a long groan. “C’mon, why? You do this every time we go somewhere!”

“Jungkook, I am five years older than you, therefore everything I say goes!” You, Kate and Jae, watch with confusion as to what was happening in front of you. Jungkook ignored Jin, earning him a quick twist to his left nipple. You couldn’t help but giggle at their interactions, and more importantly, the squeal that left Jungkook’s mouth. He sent you a glare when he heard you in the backseat, but you held eye contact until he looked away.

“Fine,” the younger man grumbles, reaching into the glove box and pulling out a binder. When he opened it, there were sleeves full of mixed CDs, each labeled with only a date. “What one?”

“January 14, 2012, please and thank you!” Jungkook places the CD in his brother's palm. Not a second later, the sound of ‘Mr. Blue Sky’ comes through the speakers, bringing a small smile to your face. Oh, the irony.

****

You were on the road for roughly 20 minutes before you came across three cars sitting along the side of the road, they appeared untouched. Jin slowed the truck and put it in park. “Let’s see if they’ve got anything, shall we?”

You all spilled out of the cars, Jungkook going to inspect the farthest car, Jin and Kate checking the closest, leaving you and Jae with the middle. You approached the vehicle with caution, the windows were covered in a layer of dirt and dust, making it impossible to see inside. “Jae open the door, do it fast,” he nodded at your words and you stood back, the knife in your hand at the ready. He grabbed the door handle and pulled, but the door wouldn't budge. The car jostled with the boy's effort to open the door. Just then you heard a bang against the window from the inside of the car. You ran your fingerless leather gloves across the windows, sure enough, a stiff was inside.

“Jae, wipe off the back windows, I need to see if there’s anything in there that’s worth it.” He did as he was told, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe the window.

“There’s blankets, some clothes, a couple of cans that I can see, oh, and there’s a first aid kit in there!”

“Well, shit.” You sighed and tilted your head at the dead eyes staring back at you. There was a gunshot wound through its chest. He had taken the easy way out. Should’ve gone for the head.

You take a step back and use your boots to kick through the glass of the back window, and manually unlock the door. You hoped that the battery was dead, the last thing you needed was the alarm going off and attracting more of them. You took a deep breath and opened the door. No sound met your ears upon your action and you couldn’t help but let out an audible sigh. Your actions had since caught the attention of your group. “Everything alright?” Jin called at you.

“Yeah, just got one in our car and the doors were locked. We can handle it,” you say, looking back at Jae.

Upon leaning into the backseat the creature in front of you twists in its seat, the sound of it ripping open its own flesh off to escape the seatbelt met your ears. The mindless creature continued to thrash, knawing its teeth at you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Grabbing hold of the back of the headrest you reached your arm around and deftly plunged your knife into the soft temple of the stiff. “Shut. Up” You leaned across all the supplies in the back seat, unlocking the opposite side, Jae taking that as his cue to jog around back and join you in going through everything.

Your car had, by far, had the most supplies in it. There were blankets, a first aid kit, some cans of food, two water jugs, and a couple of large tactical knives. If it weren’t for the fact that you had five people in your group, what you all collectively found might be enough, but you needed to make sure that you were set for a while. So, you all loaded up and headed back down the load. You reached your destination about 10 minutes later.

“We’ve been scoping this town out for the past couple weeks, trying to see if it was worth it, there's a general store that's gated off, but we didn’t feel good just charging in there and looting, we didn’t know if there were any of them inside.” Jungkook glared out the window as the truck slowed down.

Jin put the car in park, having since turned the music down to reduce noise. “Okay, so Jungkook, Kate, and Y/N, you three go scope out the store. Jungkook has bolt cutters to get you in. You guys are the brutes with handheld weapons, we want to stay as quiet as possible and I think you’re our best bets. I’ll take Jae and we’re gonna survey the town and find someplace to siphon some gas.” You all nod at the oldest and can’t help but feel grateful that he’s taking Jae with him, he’ll be safer. You give Jae a quick hug and Kate reaches past you to ruffle his hair.

The three of you assigned to the store hop out of the pickup, each of you reaching into the truck and pulling out your backpacks, Jungkook grabbing an additional duffle bag to fill. Jungkook taps the side of the vehicle, and Jin drives off down the street. You pull out your Glock, and look around the area, making sure everything is clear. Jungkook crouches down with the bolt cutters and cuts off the padlock on the metal door. You and Kate cover him from the back with caution. When you hear Jungkook push the heavy door upwards, you and your best friend turn around and follow him to the set of glass doors at the storefront. He slowly pushed against them, and they open with little protest. After entering, he turned around and locked the glass doors behind you, just in case.

Upon entering the store, everything is extremely quiet. There are a few aisles, a pharmacy at the back, and ladder leading to the roof in the back of the store. Everything seemed untouched to you, and you were surprised that the store wasn’t picked over. This must have been a community that they evacuated. Considering its size, you aren’t worried about there being any of the dead in here. Instead, you make your way to the back of the store to check the pharmacy. You pop open your bag and start taking anything off the shelves that would be helpful to you, and anything that wasn’t expired yet. Painkillers, antibiotics, and anti-inflammatories made their way into your bag. You checked the counter and found a bowl of condoms sitting there. You smirked a little to yourself and justified that they wouldn't expire for five years, so you may as well take a few. You never know.

Just then you hear a bang against the front door, all three of you turning your attention in the direction of the sound. A stiff presses itself against the door, trying to get in and you look to Jungkook and Kate.

“I can get it,” Kate grabs the knife strapped to her hips and makes her way to the front door.

“No, let me,” Jungkook steps toward the door, making Kate stop in her tracks. “You have a lot more stuff to collect on that side of the store than I do.” She only nods and walks back to where she was.

As Jungkook reaches up to the lock to undo it, five more stiffs join the first and Jungkook swears under his breath. Just then, a crowd starts to gather at the door, and Jungkook jumps back. “Shit, shit, shit. Y/N, is there a back door?”

“Not that I’ve seen, just the ladder. Damnit!” Kate and Jungkook jog back to meet you at the only escape point.

“Here, there’s a lock on the hatch!” Kate tosses you the bolt cutters, you holster your gun and throw your bag over your shoulder. You climb as quickly as possible. The glass doors start to creak under the weight of bodies, the glass cracking and groaning. When you reach the top rung you lean against the bars surrounding the ladder, but you’re shaking so badly that you drop the bolt cutters. You hear them clatter to the ground and as Jungkook reached the upward to hand them back to you, the sound of breaking glass meets your ears, You use all of your strength to cut through the padlock, finally breaking it as the horde approaches you three in the back. You swiftly climb onto the roof. Jungkook throws the duffle bag he had filled with supplies upward and you catch it. He follows you up the ladder as quickly as he can, a few of the stiffs nearly at the ladder. Kate follows him, but her boot slips off one of the rungs and she stumbles. Her boot is caught by a couple of the stiffs below her.

“Kate!” You scream, you and Jungkook both reaching your arms toward her, pulling her upward. The leather of her boots being bitten by the dead below her. You two pulled with all of your might and she kicked at screamed to get her leg released. With all of your strength, you and Jungkook manage to pull her up to the roof with you. More now than ever, you were glad they couldn’t climb. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears after the episode as you all lay there and pant. “We’re you bit?”

“No, I kept moving my legs and my boots are too thick.” She sighed and closed the hatch as you all stood.

“Jesus, Y/N! Dropping the cutters? Seriously?” Jungkook yelled at you as you closed the hatch.

“What, do you think I wanted that to happen?! The slipped out of my hand Jungkook, give me a damn break!” You yell back and stand to face him.

“Enough you two! It doesn’t matter anymore, we all made it out so just shut up! This argument isn’t important so drop it!” You and Jungkook break eye contact to look at Kate, she was right.

You turn away from him and walk to the edge of the roof, overlooking the front of the store, more of them came spilling out of the woods and onto the street. Walking along the edge of the roof, you realized that you were completely and utterly screwed. You were trapped.

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chuffyfan87 · 4 years

Text

Hiding. Part 78b

“They do?”

"They may act all cheeky and brave but I see them watching you, learning from you constantly."

“Really?” Emily was surprised by that.

"Your daddy and me wanted to run an idea by you if that's OK?"

“Yes. What’s that?”

"We noticed that you keep sneeking upstairs to the spare room in the loft. Would you like that to be your bedroom instead of sharing with your sisters?"

Emily nodded, a huge grin on her face. “Really? It’s nice up there. I like seeing the stars.”

"I'll talk to daddy and see if he and Peter can move your stuff into there at the weekend."

Emily nodded, “That’s amazing! Thank you!”

"Should give you all a bit more space." Duffy smiled. "We should probably go back downstairs but he looks so comfy there."

Emily smiled as she looked down at her brother. “He’s so little.”

"He won't be that little for long sadly."

“I’m gonna look after him.”

"I'll just go back to work now shall I?" Duffy teased affectionately.

Emily blushed, “Mummy?”

"Yes princess?"

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

"Of course. What makes you think I'm not?"

“Just asking.”

"I'm a little sore and tired but that's perfectly normal. I promise."

Emily nodded. “Ok mama.”

"Daddy wouldn't have let me come home if I wasn't ok."

Emily nodded and lent up to kiss her mum’s cheek.

"Shall we go downstairs and see if it's still chaos down there?" Duffy chuckled.

Emily nodded.

Duffy tried not to groan as she stood up from the bed but a small noise escaped her lips.

“Mama?”

"I'm ok, just the medicine wearing off." Duffy smiled reassuringly as she stooped awkwardly to pick up Paul.

“Ok. Mummy?”

"Yes?" Duffy gasped as she stood up with Paul.

“Are you okay?” Emily frowned.

Duffy debated the question momentarily before sitting back down. "Can you get my medicine from your dad?"

Emily nodded and shot off the bed, running down the stairs. “Daaaddy?”

Everyone looked up in a panic as Emily came barrelling into the lounge. “Mummy says she needs her medicine.” She smiled sadly at the doorway.

"Is she OK?" Peter asked, his eyes wide.

“Mummy says yes, she’s fine. She’s upstairs with Paul.”

Charlie stood up and went to the overnight bag. He took out the medication and got a glass of water from the kitchen.

Peter hesitated. Experience taught him to take his mum saying she was fine with a pinch of salt.

“Stay down here Em, I’m gonna go and check.” Peter went up the stairs, two steps at a time. “Mum, mum?” He called.

Charlie followed him up the stairs, with the water and medication.

"In here." Duffy replied.

Even though they couldn't see her yet Charlie to hear the eye roll in her tone. It made him smile.

Peter skidded to a halt outside the bedroom door, “You alright?” He asked.

"I'm fine."

“Ah I panicked when Emily said you were fine.” Peter admitted shyly.

Charlie came in and handed her the meds and placed the water on the bedside table.

Duffy smiled softly at her eldest son before taking the medication. "Its just normal aches and twinges."

“After a c-section?” Peter asked.

"Yeh."

Peter nodded, “I’m gonna go back downstairs.”

"OK sweetheart."

Peter went back downstairs to his siblings, feeling a little embarrassed at his outburst.

"Mummy says I can have the room in the loft!" Emily told her father excitedly.

“She did?”

"She said you'd talked about it."

"Sorry. I know we planned to tell her together." Duffy added sheepishly.

Charlie crouched down to Emily’s level, “Would you like your own room in the loft?”

"Yes!" Emily giggled.

Charlie bopped her nose gently, “Then my princess shall have her own room in the loft.”

"Yay!" Emily giggled, throwing her arms around her dad.

Charlie held her tightly, “Love you.” He said as he kissed the top of her head.

"Love you too daddy."

A little while later everyone was settled downstairs. Emily was busily drawing a picture of how she wanted her new room to look.

Kate was having a cuddle with her new grandson. “Oh he's gorgeous,” She cooed.

"When he's behaving himself he is." Duffy chuckled.

“Causing trouble already, is he? It must be a trait he gets from his father.”

Duffy laughed. "She's got you figured out." She nudged Charlie.

Charlie laughed, “Dammit.”

"Daddy said a rude word!" Tilly giggled.

“Daddy did not.” Charlie laughed.

Oli toddled over and pulled at his gran's skirt. He was getting bored of the attention the new baby was getting.

“Oli, you cheeky monkey. Come here.” Charlie picked him up.

Oli squealed, waving his legs in the air.

“You’re so noisy. Wonder who you get that from.” Charlie pondered as he held Oli in the air.

Duffy cast her eyes around the room. A lump formed in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. It still threw her sometimes that she had this wonderful family.

Kate noticed the tears in her daughter's eyes and smiled. Even though this lot were a rowdy bunch, Charlie and Duffy were just perfect at being parents.

Duffy noticed her mum's gaze settle on her. She swallowed back her tears. "Did the kids mostly behave themselves whilst we were away?" She asked.

Kate nodded, “Good as gold. Even that little monkey.” She replied referring to Oli who was still in the air squealing.

"So they weren't too much of a handful?"

“Oh no, not at all.”

"I realise it was a big ask for you to take them all. That's why I didn't want to stay in any longer than necessary."

“You need to look after yourself Lisa. And allow us to help you.”

"Hmm..." Duffy replied, rolling her eyes. In doing so she caught sight of the time. "How did it get so late?! Dinner needs cooking!" She gasped as she hauled herself up from the sofa.

“Sit down.” Charlie told her, “Your mum and I will cook for tonight.” He needed her to sit down and relax, take it easy following her c-section.

"What if Oli runs into the kitchen?" Duffy fretted, refusing to sit back down.

“Duffy, calm down please.”

"I'm perfectly capable of cooking dinner!" Duffy remarked as she headed towards the hall.

“Duffy, if you don’t listen to me. I’ll send you back to the hospital.” Charlie jokingly threatened.

"Try it!" Duffy retorted, her hands on her hips as she stood in the doorway.

Charlie's eyes roamed over her figure as she stood in the doorway before he looked up to meet her gaze, he was clearly getting distracted by something!

"Thought not!" Duffy smirked before heading to the kitchen.

Charlie shook his head fondly. She drove him wild at times.

Kate looked up at Charlie. "You're not seriously going to let her..?"

“I can’t stop her.”

"Fine. If you won't then I will!" Kate retorted as she stood and carried Paul through with her to the kitchen. "Lisa!"

"Oh what now?" Duffy harrumphed, instantly recognising the tone in her mother's voice.

“You should listen to Charlie and take it easy. You don’t want to overdo it.”

"Have I missed something? Why are you two suddenly in cahoots and ganging up on me?"

Kate shook her head. “We’re not ganging up on you.”

"Seems like it to me." Duffy replied as she slowly made her way around the kitchen gathering ingredients.

“Charlie just doesn’t want you to tempt fate that’s all!”

"I can't just sit on my arse doing nothing!"

“Yes you can!”

"They need me!" Duffy replied, gesturing to the kids in the other room.

“Yes they do. They need you here at home and not cooped up in hospital with an infection because you’ve done too much too soon.”

"Why does everyone just assume I'm going to get sick and die?" Duffy gasped, throwing down the item in her hand and bursting into tears.

“Oh sweetheart.” Her mum tried to hug her but it proved difficult with Paul in her arms.

"All of you treat me like I'm so fragile. I can't bare it!" Duffy sobbed.

“We just worry about you.” Kate replied attempting to comfort Duffy.

"I don't like being a burden. I can look after myself." Duffy insisted.

“You’re not a burden!”

"I always have been." Duffy mumbled.

“No you haven’t.” Kate smiled sadly, “Is that how you feel?”

Duffy nodded silently.

“Why do you feel like that?”

Duffy shrugged.

“Talk to me, Lisa.”

"I've caused so much damage to those around you."

“No you haven’t.”

Duffy pulled away from her mum and went back to preparing food.

“Baby blues?” Kate asked.

"I'm fine!" Duffy shot back.

“Lisa, will you stop pretending you’re fine when you and I both know you’re anything but.”

"I'll be OK."

“You don’t have to do this on your own.”

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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homeofthelonelywriter · 6 years

Text

Take the Stage: Back

(A/N) It’s a bit shorter again, but I hope you still like it!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The portray of mentioned, real life people are not accurate!

Oh, and I’ll try to make a small special for Halloween, stay tuned for more info!

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Royal!Female! Reader

Warnings: none, I think

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Tags:

@beenthroughalot

@moonstar86

@sarahivi

@godhateskyleigh

@sweet-hot-latte

@connnnnnected

@redfoxwritesstuff

@olyamoriarty

@kcd15

@lykaonimagines

@anini71

If you want on or off the tag list, let me know! I hope I forgot no one! :)

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was the first one awake. Mary and Sue were still asleep, so I left them sleeping.

Instead, I checked my phone and saw a message from Tom. “Good morning, darling.” I smiled and bit my lower lip. “Good morning.”

I had barely send the message, when my screen lit up with an incoming facetime call. I accepted it, but immediately raised my index finger to my lips, telling Tom to be quiet. I shuffled out of bed and sneaked into my bathroom, where I locked the door and turned back to my phone. “Sorry, the girls are still sleeping.” Tom chuckled lowly and shook his head. “I miss you.” I sat down on the edge of the bathtub and smiled at the man on my screen. “I miss you too. Do you know how much longer you have to stay there?” Tom shook his head. “No idea, but it won’t be too long. I hope.” I bit my lower lip, smiling like an idiot. “Oh, how I want to kiss you right now.” His eyes flickered down and I was sure he was looking at my lips. “I wouldn’t resist.” He laughed and wanted to say something but was interrupted by a knock on the door. No, wait. This was on my end. Still, he turned around and looked at his door, while I looked at mine. “Where…?” Tom shrugged. “I think both.” I chuckled and looked at him. “Write me?” He nodded his head and smiled at me. “See you later.” “Bye. Love you.”

Before I even realized my mistake, I had already hung up. I just sat there, slowly realizing what I’d just said. As realization set in, another knock sounded through the room and I got up to unlock the door.

“I told Tom that I love him.”

Tom’s POV

She said she loves me. I kept grinning at my screen and completely forgot about the knock from earlier. Since I didn’t response, my agent ripped the door open and walked in. “What are you smiling about?” “Abi said that she loves me.” My agent sighed and let a paper bag fall onto my desk. “You’re killing me.” I laughed at him and opened the bag, to find breakfast. “Eat it, you have to be on set in a few minutes.” After that he left.

While eating the breakfast, I read through the script, but remembered nothing. I kept thinking about Abi and those two words she said to me. It was stupid, probably just a silly mistake on her side, but it made me enormously happy. Let’s just say, that day, was not a productive day.

Abi’s POV

I was tackled to the ground by my friends. “Oh my god!” “We are so proud of you!” They giggled, while laying on top of me. I pushed them off and after some shuffling, we were all sitting on the bathroom floor. “It was reflex. Ugh…he probably thinks that I’m weird now…” I sighed and hid my face in my hands. “I don’t think so. He is always such a gentleman, but I think that you should call him.” I shook my head frantically, while Sue sighed. “You really should, though.” I sighed. “In the evening, okay?” They nodded, and since it was so comfortable, we continued sitting on the bathroom floor, until Eileen came in and yelled at us. “You’re going to have a bladder infection if you always sit on the floor!” All of us immediately stood up and nodded. “Sorry.” Eileen rolled her eyes, before she shooed us back into the bedroom and started running a bath. “Why are you-?” “You have a few appointments today. You forgot, didn’t you?” I grunted. “I did. Do I have to do them alone?” She shook her head, while she grabbed some clothes from my closet and brought them to the bathroom. In the doorway, she stopped. “Prince William and Miss Kate will accompany you.” I sighed with relieve and nodded. “Thank you, Eileen.” She smiled, before she vanished into the bathroom again. I turned to my friends. “Don’t worry, we’ll show ourselves out!” Sue stepped forward to give me a hug. Mary nodded. “Yeah! We know the way.” She also gave me hug, before they grabbed their stuff and left my room, after waving at me.

I stepped out of the bathtub and dried myself off with a towel. After that, I inspected the clothes Eileen had put out for me. I frowned. She had given me a pair of jeans, a normal t-shirt and a hoodie. And of course some underwear.

I wrapped a towel around my body and hair and walked into the bedroom, where Eileen was cleaning. “Ahm…are you sure those are the right clothes?” She turned to me and smiled. “Yes. I already send the clothes you’ll wear for the event ahead and made sure that you can change there. Oh, I should also say that the event is tomorrow not today. I just thought that you could use some alone time. I know that you’re tired out after spending too much time with them.” I quickly hugged and thanked her, before I walked back to the bathroom and put the clothes on. Then, I dried my hair and brushed through it.

I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. My hair had gotten longer again. I took the ends and inspected them. They were okay, so I decided against getting a haircut.

When I got back to my room, Eileen was already gone, so I decided to spend the day relaxing and doing nothing. The only time I left my room, was to eat dinner.

The next day, Eileen woke me up and send me to the bathroom. When I got out, I put on the same outfit as the day before and walked back into my bedroom.

Outside, Eileen had already prepared a bag for me with everything she knew, I would need. “Hurry up, you’re late.” I grabbed the bag and quickly pressed a kiss against her cheek, before I ran out of my room and down the stairs, to a car that was waiting for me. I jumped in and closed the door. “Good morning, princess.” “Good morning.” I smiled at the driver and he returned it, before he started to drive.

The moment I arrived, I was surrounded by stylists that took care of my hair and make up and later on helped me into the dress and heels I had to wear. Kate and Will were already waiting for me and drank tea. I walked to them and sat down beside William. “Hey, so what exactly do we have to do today?” Kate chuckled and Will laughed. “We have to present ourselves to the public, as always. This is a charity event for the victims of the house fire that happened not too long ago.” I nodded.

Soon after, we were called inside and introduced. There was some polite clapping while Will, Kate and I walked down the steps into the grand hall filled with people. The two immediately found people to talk to, but I quickly excused myself. After all, I had seen a familiar face while walking down the stairs.

I was walking through the crowd, exchanging a polite “Hello.” and “How are you?” with some of the people, but barely anything more. Until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around and there he was. “Ben!” I jumped into his arms, grinning from ear to ear. Some of the people that were near us, turned around, but just smiled before they returned to their conversations. “I missed you.” I had my arms wrapped around his neck, while he had his around my waist. “I missed you too.” Since they filmed part of the Sherlock episode in the palace, we’ve been good friends.

I was standing on the tip of my toes, trying to catch a glimpse at the two actors, but their camera crew was in the way. I cursed at myself, hoping that they’d have a break soon. I had borrowed a maid’s outfit and sneaked onto the set, saying that I was send to take care of the actors. The crew didn’t pay me any attention, which was good, since that lowered the chance of them noticing who I was.

As soon as the director called for a five-minute break, I pushed through the crew members and walked to Ben and Martin. “May I get you some tea?” The two had been talking but looked up when I addressed them. Ben was only wearing a think blanket and I had to keep myself from laughing. Martin send me a slight smiled and nodded. “I’d like an earl gr-.” “Princess?” Ben jumped up, causing me stumble back from the shock. “I am so sorry that we didn’t notice who you are earlier.” He bowed his head and when Martin noticed what was going on, he did the same. “Sssshhhh! Please, no one here knows who I am!” They frowned at me. “Why?” Martin raised an eyebrow. “Well, I wanted to see you and I knew that my family would’ve made all this a whole lot more complicated if I had told them, so I decided to sneak in here instead.” They nodded in understanding. “Well, it’s an honour that you would like to meet us.” I smiled at them. “It’s an honour to meet you two. I love the series. And please, drop the formalities. It’s just me.” Ben wanted to protest, but Martin smiled and nodded.

I kept standing there and chatted with them, until the director told everyone that they are going to resume filming and I said goodbye.

What I didn’t know back then, was that Eileen was watching me the whole time and later on asked Ben and Martin for their numbers. That’s how we got in contact. And in the meantime, Ben became my best friend.

He let go of me and pushed me to arms length. “You look marvellous, dear!” I grinned, took a step back and spun. “I know.” We laughed and he offered me his arm, which I gladly accepted. “You don’t look to bad either. The years are treating you quiet nice.” Ben turned to me, looking shocked. “What are you talking about? I’m immortal!” I chuckled and we continued to walk around. We came to the balcony doors and Ben opened them, letting us go outside. I let go of the arm and walked to the railing, leaning on it. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, I turned around and looked at my friend. He was leaning against the wall and looked at me. “What are you thinking about?” He pushed himself off the wall and walked to me. “I have a surprise.” I frowned at him, but instead of answering he just turned away and walked in. I continued to stand there and stare at the spot where Ben had been standing not too long ago. I turned back around and admired the view. A giant park laid before me. A small river ran through it. I watched the different birds sit and drink, until a cat jumped into the middle and shooed them away. I chuckled as the cat jumped around, searching for the birds.

“What’s so funny, dear?”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom imagine #tom hiddleston imagine #imagine tom hiddleston #benedict cumberbatch #fanfiction #multichapter #royal au #royal reader #royal!reader #the royals #great britain #royal family

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years

Text

Apex Predator Untamed

AN: I’m sixteen years late to the Silent Hill 3 party, but it’s okay. This is a SH3/Life is Strange fic inspired by @magpieartem’s comic that I’m super excited to see more of! This is also on Archive, where it might be multi-chaptered. Who knows. Just know that Heather has PTSD and trust issues and will literally fight everyone

———

Everything hurt.

Well, everything always hurt, but it hurts more than usual at this very moment. Heather can barely force her eyelids open; it’s like they’re glued together. She thinks she’s standing up, but it feels like she’s falling down. And, holy mother of the now-dead God, did her head throb.

She thinks shock has finally worn off. She can feel every stab of pain, every pinprick is agony that needles her body. The bite mark on her left leg from a particularly quick Double Head looks to be festering. Her knees are darker than a ripe eggplant in the fall and she thinks the burn on her shoulder is peeling again. Her collarbone is definitely fracture, three of her ribs have to be cracked, and blood had been dribbling out in persistent streams from her nose a little while ago- she can’t remember why. At least the gash on her side has stopped bleeding, but now it’s just drooling out copious amounts of slimy discharge, which isn’t much better.

But it was fine. Everything was fine. She managed to survive in Silent Hill with all of these wounds. If open injuries were going to get badly infected anywhere, it would be there. But she was okay.

That front lasted for half an hour and then she saw the sigil on the bathroom mirror. Why did she even think to go in there? She should have just left with Douglas immediately. Now she’s...well, she can’t quite remember. Her head hurts too much.

Geez, though, who turned on the lights? She’s barely opening her eyes and she already feels like she’s being blinded. Burning white light stabs into her retinas; was it this bright in the bathroom?

And what was that sound? Was someone brushing their teeth or something? Better yet: when did someone else walk in here with her? She would have noticed. And it’s not like there was anyone else around, beside Douglas, but he wouldn’t waltz right into the girl’s restroom and start brushing his teeth or something.

Wait, what the hell? This mirror is cleaner compared to the one in that gritty little amusement park bathroom. And were those showers in the reflection? And who in the ever loving hell is that girl brushing her teeth next to her?

Heather does a double take. She inhales a sharp breath and slowly cranes her head around to look at the stranger. Her face drains of all color as the blonde girl’s toothbrush fell from her mouth, clattering into the sink bowl. They both stare at each other for a long time before Heather bolts towards the door. She stumbles into an unfamiliar hallway with even more unfamiliar people. They seem to recognize her as an unknown alien to this place and turned to stare. It didn’t help that she was breathing heavily and looked like she was in serious need of a hospital.

She took two steps back, only to get herself into a wall. She narrowly dodges someone coming at her and- where the hell is her shotgun? It’s not on her. Of course she left it somewhere that wasn’t here. At least she had her pipe and pistol; they were lighter, anyway.

Heather swerved away from the teenager walking towards her and sprints into a storage closet, pressing up against the door to keep it shut once she’s inside. She slumps to the ground, trying to catch her breath and process what exactly was happening.

She could hear talking out in the hallway. It was muffled through the wall, but it would only take a little common sense to realize they were talking about her. Because of course they were.

“...I don’t know. I just blinked and there she was!”

“...That’s so weird. I’ve never seen her here before. Maybe she’s a new student?”

“...We would have known by now.”

“...True.”

Heather holds her breath and prays in the god she has recently killed that they’ll go away. They don’t. This is why she isn’t religious.

There’s a knock on the door that sends Heather hauling into the opposite wall. She collides with cleaning supplies and she feels her burned shoulder and fractured collarbone ache in disagreement. She grits her teeth and waits for the pain to subside, which causes her to miss what’s being said to her for the first few seconds.

“..Hello? Hello? Are you okay in there?” Asked a first voice.

“Umm, are you on any kind of drugs?” Piped up a second.

It takes a moment for Heather register that words are being spoken to her. Words of concern; not ones that are screaming religious sacraments or going on about how she was going to birth a demon. These people sounded genuinely worried about her. That didn’t stop her from putting up a protective front, though.

“What? No I’m not on drugs!” She snapped and her voice came out shakier than she would have liked. “I just- Where the hell am I?”

“Blackwell Academy in Arcadia Bay.” The second voice answers without missing a beat, then added softly to their friend, “...See, I told you she wasn’t from here.”

Arcadia Bay? The good news was that at least she was still in Oregon. The bad news is literally everything else about the situation she’s got herself into.

Heather swears softly to herself. She wants to scream and pull her hair out, but that hasn’t done any good before. Besides, she doesn’t want to add anymore pain to her already throbbing head.

“Do you mind coming out here? So we can talk face-to-face? Maybe we can help you?” Requested the first voice.

Heather was this close to just saying “That’s it! I’m killing myself!” and then shooting herself in the mouth with her pistol, but she stamps down that urge. She stands up very slowly, half because of her hesitancy and half because of her wounded leg. She puts her hand on her pipe and opens the door begrudgingly.

Two completely normal looking people stared in at her, trying to seem as less threatening as possible, which she kind of appreciated.

Both of them were taller than her, most people were, and appeared to be slightly older. They seemed friendly enough. The brunette reminded Heather of a doe, while the girl that had been brushing her teeth looked like a barn owl. Heather made a mental note to stop comparing people to animals.

“Hi,” Doe-girl said with a small smile, “I’m Max Caulfield. This is Kate Marsh. What’s your name?”

Ah, so she wasn’t “doe-girl”. Good to know. Weird that they’re just giving out their real names to a complete stranger like it’s no big whoop, though. Heather sifted through the many aliases she had used before, until she finally settled on just using her most recent one. She considered coming up with a new one entirely, but getting used to another title wasn’t something she wanted to memorize right now. And it wasn’t like she was ready to use Cheryl yet, either.

“Heather,” She said, “Heather Mason.”

Max and Kate exchange looks, and for a moment Heather worried that she’ll have to kill them if they know about her. Then, they smile in a friendly way that eases her up a little. Not enough to pry her hand loose from her steel pipe, though.

“It’s nice to meet you, Heather.” Max says, “So I take it that you’re not from around here, huh? I mean, I’ve never seen you around school before.”

Heather is only partially listening. She’s gone temporarily deaf in one ear and the other is constantly ringing, so she can’t hear much. She wonders if that blood trail is still dried down her ear, or maybe she scratched it off.

“Yeah, no. I’m not a student.” She answered.

“Do you have any idea how you got here?” Kate asked.

Heather shakes her head. Really, that’s the truth. Being transported to another city entirely has never happened before.

“That’s okay,” Max said, “We’re not strangers to weird and unexplainable occurrences.”

Heather is actually curious about that and really wants to question this deer-looking girl, but her mouth is way too dry to waste speech on something as unimportant as that. She can’t remember the last time she drank anything. Or ate. All she can taste in her mouth is blood and sour traces of bile from when she threw up that disgusting fetus thing. Mainly blood, though.

“Oh...I bet.” She said, trying to humor them. “Listen, I’m, uhh, sorry for this disturbance. If you can just point me to the nearest bus or train station then that would be just-“

She attempted to walk, but it didn’t go so well. Her wounded leg and bruised knees finally turn against her and completely stop working. The ground rushes up to meet her and the last thing she heard was those two girls screaming. Maybe her name. She can’t be precise, though, because the roaring in her functioning ear gets louder and it’s not long before she’s unconscious, staring at the grotesque figure of God that now flits behind her eyelids.

———

Claw away the darkness.

Heather tries. She really does. She’s weaker. It’s harder to fight.

Fighting is all she can do now. Silent Hill, the Otherworld, has changed her. It morphed her into a slayer that she never wanted to be. Not that she had a choice, though. When you’re shoved into a situation like hers, fighting is the only thing you can do. Running only buys you a little time, but not enough to get to safety.

Animal instincts. That’s what Heather has developed. She has climbed her way to the top of the pyramid and was crowned as the apex predator. Killing is all she learned and it’s going to stick with her for the rest of her life. Never trust anyone.

But when all of that is stripped away, when all of it is taken and you’re left completely helpless, it’s fucking terrifying. Heather feels naked without all the power she struggled to obtain. She needed to be strong or she’ll die in this new environment.

Her claws chip and darkness overtakes her.

Heather is pulled back into a freezing black ocean. Waves batter against her. Salt water stings in her several open wounds. Red bubbles explode from her lips and, in return, bloody mouthfuls of sea foam rush down her esophagus.

“...Ho-ly shit. You weren’t lying. She looks terrible.”

Over Poseidon’s wrath, she thinks she hears a voice. It’s unfamiliar, but it’s the only thing she’s got. She tries to cling to it.

“...What I want to know is why nobody called 911.”

“...Common sense, Rachel. Something is different about this girl and we can’t let her go without finding out what that is. It’s been too long since we had a good mystery on our hands.”

“...It’s been a solid two months, Max, but okay.”

Too many voices. Too many people she definitely doesn’t know. Heather is scrambling for a hold, for air, but she’s shoved down to the sand once again.

“...Hey, guys!”

“...Hi, Warren!”

“...Why are you climbing in through Max’s window?”

“...You mean the Chloe door?”

She thrashes. She kicks and paddles in sheer desperation before she’s able to grab onto something. It becomes her anchor and it’s the only thing she has. She hauls herself upwards and breaches the surface.

Heather bolts upright, nearly smashing her head into someone else’s skull. Multiple yelps of shock fill wherever-she-is and she looks around frantically, barley registering the overwhelming pain that floods through her entire body. When she does, she cringes.

There are not one, not two, but five people in what she assumes to be a dorm room. Five people that she doesn’t know and could be dangerous. She kinda recognizes Max and Kate, but she doesn’t know them well enough to be cool around them.

The other three complete strangers are as followed: Blue haired chick who is definitely gay (a wolf? maybe a shark?), lady with brown hair (lioness, definitely), and some dude by the window (possibly a ferret or lemur). Heather has no idea who gave them the right to watch over her unconscious body.

“Too fast,” Max mutters, her hands going out to steady Heather.

The girl defensively snapped her head around and bared her teeth, reaching for her pipe.

“Don’t touch me.” She warned and Max backed off.

“I like her.” Said the wolf-shark.

Heather eyes her wryly before going to stand up. Every muscle in her body strains in disagreement and it feels like two-ton chains are weighing her down at the wrists.

“Woah, hey, I don’t think you should do that.” The boy said, but Heather ignores him.

Her spine bows when hands close around she forearms and she’s paralyzed for a moment, like an animal shot with a tranquilizer dart. She struggled but fatigue has zapped most of her energy.

“For once, listen to the geek over there.” Says the culprit of the touch, wolf-shark.

“Hey!” The geeky lemur barked.

“His name is Warren,” Max informs, “That’s Chloe and Rachel.”

Heather hums roughly in response, mainly because it hurts to talk. Her stomach cramps from hunger, but she isn’t about to go and eat something from this unknown place. It’s not safe in the slightest.

“What happened to you?” Rachel asked and Heather spends a long time just analyzing her.

She quickly realizes what she’s doing. She’s sizing these people up. Estimating how easy it would be to kill them. It’s not a morbid thought- it’s self defense. She can’t trust people anymore. If she struck now, she could probably bash in the obvious Christian’s head before anyone could react. Then, if she spun around quick enough, she could definitely nail the doe in the back of the skull or neck. Lemur-boy shouldn’t even be a challenge. She might be able to get him in the throat with enough precision. She has her pistol, too, so that should make quick work of Blue Hair and Queen Bee. Yeah, she liked to think she could have them all down in a minute.

“It’s not something I want to share,” Heather grits, idly tracing her fingertips around one of the holes in her calf. The bite mark was blackened and warm to the touch. She hasn’t thought much of it until now, but she still pushes it out of her mind.

“Something wild, I bet.” Warren comments, getting closer to really join the huddle.

“Wow, did it take a Master’s Degree in psychology for you to realize that?” Heather said sarcastically. That came out much harsher than she had really intended. She’s more sardonic when scared.

Chloe barks with laughter while Warren huffs, muttering something underneath his breath.

“Okay, I’m- I’m sorry.” Heather sighed, “Can I just- can I have some space? So I can clean up? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“There’s the showers.” Kate suggested.

A shower actually sounded really nice. Heather couldn’t turn it down, so that’s where she shuffled off to.

“Oh my god,” Rachel said once she was out of the dorm room, “Max, what a mangy little weirdo you managed to scrounge up.” She meant that in a good natured way.

“Maybe she can time travel, too.” Max says, genuinely interested in this weird experience, “This is a perfect opportunity to learn more about the ability! And I would have felt bad if I just left her unconscious on the floor.”

“So would I.” Kate agreed.

“What are we going to do with her?” Warren asked, “She can’t stay here. People can’t just waltz into this school. You have to be accepted. Even though most people on this campus act like they are drugs every second of every day, even they could figure out she shouldn’t belong here.”

“Or would they.”

Chloe is smirking from where she’s perched on Max’s bed- not a good sign.

“Not another one of Chloe’s ideas...” Kate mutters.

“It’s another one of my ideas!” Chloe announced, “Just sneak her in. Say she’s new and just hasn’t been added to the system yet.”

“I said everyone here takes drugs, not that they lack any brain cells.” Warren says against her plan.

Chloe shoots him a half-hearted glare.

“It might work.” Max shrugs, “There’s an empty dorm in the girl’s building. She can stay there.”

“I thoroughly enjoy how we’ve all collectively came to the agreement that we’re not letting her leave.” Rachel chuckled.

They all laughed, but there’s no way they’ll be laughing forever. Fog rolls into Arcadia Bay in thick white sheets that afternoon. Heather feels sick all over again, like another demon is trying to claw its way out of her stomach.

#this is a hot mess #but #im actually proud of the attention to detail #and just the way I wrote it #but seriouslt #the comic I was inspired by is really good #silent hill #silent hill 3 #heather mason #life is strange #max caulfield #chloe price #kate marsh #rachel amber #warren graham #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #writing

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bellavidasb-blog · 5 years

Text

/Dealing with the Suicide of Someone you Love/

I have not shared this yet on Social media until now. It was just far too painful. However, I feel brave enough now to share this with you. So here goes...

On February 4, 2019, my dad took his own life. He had struggled with untreated bipolar his whole life and Aspergers (ASD). About a year ago, he went in for surgery for a Hip replacement and his health went downhill after the surgery due to several infections and pain that doctors could not get rid of.

Sadly, my dad did not want to admit he had bipolar. He thought he only had depression and anxiety because he actually like his mania. I think this might be true of some people who are bipolar. They love their Highs, but their Lows scare them. So, he never saw a Psychiatrist who could accurately diagnose him because he only went when he was Depressed and saw a General Practitioner MD.

Something that bugs me about this is that many Doctors will write a prescription for Antidepressants without truly diagnosing their patients thoroughly. They hear the symptoms and just write a prescription without truly understanding what is going on.

While my dad was depressed, Antidepressants were not the answer for him. He needed a Mood Stabilizer and he needed a Psychologist and a Psychiatrist to monitor his meds.

Sadly, I learned after his death that my dad took an antidepressant for a few days, said it hurt his stomach and abruptly stopped taking it. A few days later, he woke up, drove his car to a parking garage 5th floor and jumped without leaving a note of explanation to anyone. This was so unlike my dad as he loved to write... if he was himself, he would have at least left all of us a note to explain why he did this. He didn't even kiss my stepmom goodbye that morning when he left.

We are all devastated. And tragically, my family has had to deal with suicide many times before... My family has had many people who have committed suicide. At least 3 of my dad's siblings, two uncles and his grandmother committed suicide. This is an epidemic of huge proportions in my family.

I am sharing this with you because I need to talk about this and not sweep it under the rug as suicide is often not talked about. I might sound like I am making light, but believe me I am not. I take this very, very seriously.

In fact, I suffer from depression and anxiety and have taken an antidepressant for 11 years now. It has helped me cope with stress, anxiety and depression and I know it is something I need. I have myself been suicidal, but thankfully, was able to pull out of it and get help through counseling and, of course, my medication. It makes me so sad and upset when people "medication shame" people for taking something that is helping them cope.

We as a society need to realise some very important Truths about the Brain:

The Brain is an Organ- exactly like any other Major Organ in the Body.

The Brain is highly susceptible to deficiencies in the chemicals it needs to function properly- just like any other Organ in the body!

The Brain can be Low on chemicals just like your Liver or Pancreas.

No one would EVER shame a person with Diabetes for taking Insulin- why is it ok to Shame someone who has low serotonin for taking an SSRI Antidepressant?

The Brain does not replace its cells like other organs in the body and is much more fragile than other organs in the body.

The Brain is highly sensitive to stimuli from the environment, chemicals in the air, foods we eat and the stimuli you are giving it.

If we can come to think differently about our Brains and how they Function, we might start to destigmatize "Mental Health". How about "Brain Health" instead? No one gets all worked up about "Heart Health" and thinks "People will judge me if they know I am on Cholesterol medication." Yet, many people fear others knowing they are depressed, in therapy or taking medications.

I have heard many people tell me, "Well, I have been taking (XYZ) medication for a few months now, but I am trying to get off of it." I always think, "WHY!? Is it helping you? Why would you get off something that has helped you feel better?" I think people feel like they have to qualify why they are on something and then say they don't REALLY need it- it is just temporary to help them through a tough time. I believe this is because people don't want others to think they are "crazy" or judge them for being on something for depression.

I suppose it is Ironic that around a year ago when Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain both took their lives so close to each other, I started a Podcast called "The Erin Show" about Suicide to give support to others and share a little of my story. I never thought I would be talking about my own Dad's suicide.

I now realize just how important it is to talk about suicide and depression. It truly can save someone's life. I used to hide from others that I took an antidepressant, but I decided a while back to be very open with people about taking medication. I can't help anyone if I am hiding the truth. I encourage others to share they take medication and not be afraid others will judge them. As people start to open up about taking these drugs, it will defuse the stigma around taking them! It is so ridiculous that people hide this and are ashamed of it. Why be ashamed of doing what your body and brain needs?

Not taking an antidepressant (or other appropriately prescribed drug that helps the brain with the lack of chemicals needed to cope) has probably killed far more people in this world from Suicide than the actual pills have done harm to people. One study showed that nearly 25 Million people have taken their own lives. That is a staggering and sobering statistic.

25 Million People! That is more than any War fought. The amount of heartache and sorrow generated from those people taking their own lives is overwhelming! And now I am once again feeling their sorrow so deeply.

This should be at the top of our National Health agenda and yet it is not. Mainly because it is thought that it is voluntary. However, what is the root cause of these suicides is our Brain functioning and our coping mechanisms.

If you have ever been Suicidal, you know that everything else in the world disappears and all you know is how deeply painful your life has become. There seems no way out of that suffering. You are not thinking about anyone other than yourself and your pain at that moment. I know, because I have been there myself. It is so frightening to feel like that. I don't want you or anyone to think I am judging you. I am not. I don't judge my dad for what he did. I am heart broken. I am devastated he felt so lonely and afraid in his last moments on this Earth. It makes me happy he is out of his pain, however.

Yet, for anyone who has had this happen to a loved one, it is a very heavy burden to bear. It is pain that never really goes away. There are days that I feel fine, and others that the pain is so heavy I can barely breathe.

When my brother called me to tell me, he said, "Erin, I just got off the phone with (my stepmom) and Dad killed himself." Followed by silence.

I was so stunned that I felt like I sat there with my mind whirlling forever, but it was probably just a split second. My brother is a joker and was the class clown, so my first thought was, 'He must be kidding. No way would dad do that.' Then, of course, my brain acknowledged, 'No way in hell would he be kidding about dad killing himself.'

My first words were, "What? No. No way." At least I think they were because I was in Shock and I can't really remember what I said... All I remember was it felt like the world ground to a halt and I was in slow motion trying to grasp what had just been said to me.

"Yes, Erin. This morning," he said compassionately.

"What? How? Why, why would he do that?" I started to cry, completely dumbfounded and reeling from shock, disbelief and horror.

My brother gently told me what had happened and what he had been told. He tried to comfort me because he knew how close I had been with my dad. We both told each other how much we loved each other and said we would be heading there to be with my stepmom.

After I hung up, I crumpled up on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. My heart literally felt like it was tearing in two pieces. My cat was the only other being there and she came over and gently nuzzled against me trying to comfort me. I held her and cried sobbing until I could get up. My mind was racing and I felt like I had just been spun around like a top. I didn't know what to do.

I called my husband who was at the doctor and told him sobbing and trying to make sense. He immediately said, "I'm leaving and I will be right there. I am so sorry, sweetie. I love you. I'll be home soon."

No words can really express that level of grief and sorrow. As I said, I have had other people I love who took their own lives. However, nothing can prepare you for losing someone to suicide, especially a parent, who helped give you life, raise you and protect you when you were little. It is difficult enough having a parent die. Knowing they did this to themselves is a whole different level of sorrow and loss.

Unless you have experienced this yourself, it is difficult to truly understand, and I don't wish this on anyone. I hope you never have to experience this. I don't know if I will ever not feel this pain when I think of my dad. My brother is better at focusing on the good times and fun we had with him. And I know I will get there someday.

Perhaps it is because I am so empathetic that I suffer from depression. When you feel emotions very deeply, it can be a blessing and a curse. I certainly do where my heart on my sleeve, and so did my dad. This can make you much more creative and artistic, but it can also be a weapon you use against yourself that can drag you down into despair if you don't keep it in check.

I want you to know, that even though I am still suffering, I see the beauty of life. I see the beauty in YOU. I wrote this article today to help those who feel lost and lonely. To help those who are sad and feel like they may never feel happy again. If this is you, please know that there are so many people out there who love you. Some who you have never even met.

If my Dad had told even one person that he was Suicidal, this might not have happened. If you are depressed and suicidal, Please tell someone who can help you. I have had people email me who I did not know personally admit they were suicidal and there is nothing I can do other than tell them to please get help and give them the Suicide hotline. The only way to truly get help is to be honest with someone who will be there to support you and get you help.

If you don't have someone you can talk to, you need to be brave enough to find a Psychiatrist and get help for yourself. I pray that you get better and find happiness again! You deserve to be happy! We all do!

You can email me if you need support and I will try to help, but I will always tell you to find support close to you as well. That is the key to breaking out of whatever you are feeling. Research has proven that all of us crave human connection as one of our basic human needs.

Most of all, I want you to know that I am rooting for you. If you can find the strength to keep going, there is so much beauty waiting for you in this life if you seek it out. Yes, life can be extremely difficult. But Life can also be extremely beautiful. You will see that beauty return if you hold on. And I pray that you do.

Thank you for reading my story. I love you all.

God bless you and Keep you,

Erin XOXO

My Email: [email protected]

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1 (800) 273-8255

www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

Note: You can also online chat with someone at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 24 hours a Day every day of the year. It's free, private and confidential.

By going to their website, you can find a Local Crisis Center and you can get help, or you can get information on how to Volunteer, Donate and help support the incredible work they are doing to save lives.

Please share this post to help others who are suffering from losing someone to Suicide or who are suicidal themselves. Thank you. XO

Here are some more resources:

Bipolar Symptoms: https://www.psycom.net/bipolar-disorder-symptoms/

#suicide #dealingwithsuicide #youarenotalone #youareloved #suicideprevention #bipolar #depression #anxiety #dontgiveup

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brokehorrorfan · 6 years

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Best New Horror Movies on Netflix: Spring 2018

There’s an overwhelming amount of horror movies to sift through on Netflix, so I’ve decided to take out some of the legwork by compiling a list of the season’s best new genre titles available on Netflix’s instant streaming service.

Please feel free to leave a comment with any I may have missed and share your thoughts on any of the films you watch. You can also peruse past installments of Best New Horror Moves on Netflix for more suggestions.

1. The Ritual

The Ritual is the great Blair Witch Project sequel we never got. Although not found footage, it explores many similar plot points as the recent Blair Witch - yet it feels far more fresh and, more importantly, scarier. The first two acts are superbly eerie, and, while it loses a tiny bit of momentum toward the end, it offers a truly imaginative creature design. After memorable segments in several anthologies, David Bruckner's (V/H/S, The Signal) feature directorial debut offers a small but strong cast led by Rafe Spall (Prometheus), well-developed characters, a creative use of flashbacks, and a brilliant atmosphere of dread.

2. Veronica

Veronica's reputation precedes it, as it has been the subject of several high-profile articles touting it as the scariest movie on Netflix. I'm not sure it lives up to that claim, but it's certainly worth seeing for yourself. Based on true events, the film takes place in 1991 Madrid. When 15-year-old Veronica (Sandra Escacena) attempts to contact her deceased father with a Ouija board alongside two fellow Catholic schoolgirls, she becomes haunted by something from the other side. Escacena - an actual teenager - delivers a great performance, and director Paco Plaza ([Rec]) channels James Wan in his expert crafting of frightening set pieces.

3. Before I Wake

Nearly three years after it was supposed to open in theaters, Before I Wake was rescued from rights issues by Netflix. Director Mike Flanagan (Ouija: Origin of Evil, Gerald's Game) has since cemented himself as a modern master of horror, and Before I Wake is another winner. Kate Bosworth (Superman Returns) and Thomas Jane (The Mist) star as a couple who, still grieving the death of their young son, adopt a 6-year-old boy, Cody (a then-unknown Jacob Tremblay, Room). Upon learning that Cody's dreams manifests themselves in reality, the parents encourage him to dream about their deceased son in order to spend more time with him. Unfortunately for everyone, Cody also suffers from nightmares about a creature he calls The Canker Man. It's a bit heavy on exposition, but the film has ample heart and strong visuals. Similar to the work of Guillermo del Toro, Before I Wake blends horror motifs with fantastical and dark dramatic elements.

4. 47 Meters Down

Originally scheduled to go straight-to-DVD in 2016, 47 Meters Down was given a theatrical release last summer, which proved to be an unlikely success. Mandy Moore (This Is Us) and Claire Holt (The Vampire Diaries) star in the underwater thriller as sisters whose shark diving expedition goes wrong. Trapped on the ocean floor, the girls' air supplies are quickly depleting while a swam of great white sharks circles the area. There are a few unfortunate jump scares, and suspension of disbelief is certainly required, but director Johannes Roberts (The Other Side of the Door) takes a mostly grounded, serious approach, crafting a bit of old-fashioned suspense at a brisk pace. Read my full review of the film here.

5. Mute

Mute is a sci-fi mystery, not a horror movie - although it does have a brutal kill at its climax. Aesthetically, the film is total Blade Runner worship - perhaps even more so than Blade Runner 2049 - so it is gorgeous to look at. Set in the near future, the plot finds a mute bartender (Alexander Skarsgård, True Blood) searching the seedy underbelly of Berlin for his missing girlfriend. But it's the B-story - in which Paul Rudd (Ant-Man) and Justin Theroux (The Girl on the Train) play a pair of wise-cracking black market surgeons - that steals the show. Director Duncan Jones (Moon, Source Code), who co-wrote the script with Michael Robert Johnson (Sherlock Holmes), also throws in a fun nod to Moon that sets Mute in the same universe.

6. Nails

Nails occasionally feels like a lesser Insidious movie (particularly Chapter 3, since both involve injured female antagonists), but it'll hit that sweet spot when you're browsing Netflix for something short (only 85 minutes!) and creepy in the middle of the night. After a nasty hit and run, Dana (Shauna Macdonald, The Descent) is left confined to a hospital bed, barely able to speak or move. She believes someone is in the room with her at night; at first, she feels a presence watching her, and then it starts touching. Her family and doctors dismiss her claims as hallucinations from painkillers. It suffers from a bit too much exposition, but there are some strong horror set pieces. The Irish film earns bonus points for being almost entirely contained to the hospital bed without getting stale.

7. Ravenous

Ravenous (also known as Les Affamés) is yet another post-apocalyptic zombie thriller in the vein of The Walking Dead, but it's better than many of its contemporaries. The Canadian production is in French, but it addresses universal themes in its exploration of human drama. In the film, various rogue survivors band together to strengthen their chances of survival among the hordes of infected. Along the way, it introduces a mysterious ritual of sorts that the zombies perform, though it's never fully paid off. Nevertheless, this one is worth a watch if you’re a fan of recent zombie dramas like Maggie, The Cured, Here Alone, and What We Become.

8. Bad Match

The first act of Bad Match resembles a sophomoric “bro” comedy, but it's worth sitting through to watch it blossom into its final form: Fatal Attraction for the digital age. Jack Cutmore-Scott (Deception) stars as Harris, a 20-something tech worker with a tendency to hook up with women from a Tinder-like dating app and then never speak to them again. He finally meets a woman he really likes, Riley (Lili Simmons, Bone Tomahawk), only to have her become deeply obsessed with him. The supporting cast includes Noureen DeWulf (Anger Management), Chase Williamson (Beyond the Gates), Brandon Scott (Channel Zero), and Trent Haaga (Citizen Toxie: The Toxic Avenger IV).

9. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters

I'm surprised it has taken this long for Toho to make a Godzilla anime, as both are staples of Japan, and the medium eliminates any limitations caused by having an actor in the rubber suit. Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters is the first installment in a planned anime trilogy. Like many Godzilla films, it spends a tedious amount of time with character exposition before the creatures are introduced. The film is set in 2048, after giant monster attacks have caused the earth to collapse. Humans search space for an inhabitable planet before returning to earth; nearly halfway through the movie, they finally land and start fighting the kaiju. It's an impressive sight when Godzilla finally shows up, as it’s the biggest version of the king of the monsters ever put on screen. With all of the set up out of the way, Planet of the Monsters sets the stage for the next two installments to be even better.

Bonus: The End of the F***ing World

The End of the F***ing World is a British series released in the US as a Netflix original. 17-year-old James (Alex Lawther, Black Mirror) is fairly certain he's a serial killer, but when his would-be first victim, the moody Alyssa (Jessica Barden, The Lobster), invites him to runaway with him, the unstable couple fall for one another. Like Natural Born Killers meets Moonrise Kingdom, their time on the road includes absurd crime, unlikely death, young love, and pitch-black humor. With an engaging story spread out across eight 20-minute episodes, it's virtually impossible not to binge through the entire season in one sitting.

Bonus: Haunters: The Art of the Scare

Haunters: The Art of the Scare is ostensibly a documentary about homemade haunted houses, similar to The American Scream. It profiles a few mom-and-pop haunts, illustrating the communal aspect as well as the strain it can have on personal relationships. But the bulk of the film is dedicated to McKamey Manor, a nonprofit "extreme haunt" run out of certifiably insane guy's house in San Diego. There's a waiting list of thousands of people who are more than willing to be debased on camera for all the internet to see. Deplorable as it may be, it's a fascinating subject that, frankly, should have been the sole subject of the documentary.

#netflix #the ritrual #veronica #47 meters down #the end of the f***ing world #before i wake #godzilla #mute #nails #ravenous #bad match #haunters #best of netflix #article #list

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bravevulnerability · 6 years

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A/N: Continuation of ‘love and some verses’: chapter 54

“Insert for Cuffed: Castle and Beckett were put in separate rooms and Beckett banged through the wall that released the tiger and Castle has to listen to her screams as she’s being eaten.”

(Or for those who haven’t read it: an AU for 4x10, ‘Cuffed’, in which Beckett is brutally attacked by a tiger.)

For Alex and Evan.

Moisture seeps through his shirt, wets his skin with heat, but the tears leaking onto his chest are far better than the spill of her blood.

“Kate,” he whispers, combing his fingers through her hair. She should be lying flat, the front of her body to the hospital bed with her back horizontal and exposed. But she just kept staring at him with her cheek pressed to the starched sheet, her eyelids heavy but unable to fall closed.

“Crawl in with me,” she said, her voice no more than a rasp but still leaving little room for argument.

He rose from the chair and slid into her hospital bed without having to move her except to ease beneath her, mimicking their position in the freezer only forty-eight hours ago. She hissed and pierced her bottom lip with her teeth, but continued to shift until they were chest to chest and he could feel the ragged throb of her heart working against his sternum.

Her hospital gown slipped and fell apart, the ties in the back already done up loosely to avoid risking aggravation to her wounds - open wounds with a polymicrobial infection transferred from the rip of a tiger’s claws through her flesh. Her doctor was treating the infection first before they sewed up the five deep lacerations decorating Kate’s back, but leaving the wounds open, exposed, was agony.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs, drawing one of her arms a little tighter against her chest and easing one of her thighs between his.

He swallows hard.

She’s practically draped atop of him and he should be used to it by now, especially after spending hours with her lying over him in the freezer while they waited for rescue. But it’s different now. They survived, are no longer facing the prospect of imminent death - he expected them to revert to their usual post-survival method of not talking about things.

I’m glad it ends with you.

Not that much talking has necessarily been going on. Kate has been in nonstop pain. For all he knows, maybe she’s just delirious from it all and the heating pad of his body beneath her helps, provides her at least a hint of comfort.

He brushes his lips to the top of her head, savors the delusion while he can.

“Is the medication helping at all?”

“Helps. Just feel bad,” she sighs against his throat. Her fingers curl in the hoodie from the NYPD that Esposito brought over for him. He shoved the shirt he was wearing into the trashcan of a hospital bathroom, the fabric stiff and unsalvageable from the seep of her blood. It took him at least five minutes to scrub it from his skin with paper towels and hot water from the bathroom sink. “Can’t sleep without thinking of it.”

“I know.” He can’t either, can’t close his eyes without seeing her cornered by a wild animal, the vibrant drench of her own blood across her clothes. Can’t stop feeling the gut wrenching fear of losing her. “But it’ll get better, especially once they stitch you up in the morning.”

Kate hums against his chest, her cheek sealed over his heart and her tears at his collarbone. “You okay?”

“Me?” he huffs, massaging the tips of his fingers along her scalp. “You’re the one who nearly got ripped apart by a tiger.”

Her fingers tighten in the fabric of his jacket. “Castle.”

“As long as you’re okay, I’m okay,” he answers, scaling his thumb along her ear.

“I’m okay,” she whispers, tilting her head, just enough to graze her lips along the exposed skin of his throat. His eyes flutter closed. “We’re both okay.”

“Kate, I-”

“Should’ve told you sooner,” she mumbles, mouth still brushing maddeningly over the cords of his neck. “Not waited for a tiger to force it out.”

Castle’s brow furrows and his thumb strokes along her temple in question.

“Forced what out of you?”

She sighs and lifts her head, whimpering at the ripple of movement it sends spiraling down her spine.

“Kate, hey, don’t-”

“Need to see you for this,” she insists, the lines of her face pinched tight with pain, but her eyes burning gold. He doesn’t fight her on it, but he does lower his hand to curve at her nape, helping support the weight of her skull. “Need to tell you-”

“Tell me,” he prompts. “Before the pain in your back makes you pass out on me.”

She huffs, the corners of her mouth twitching with wry amusement. He lifts his other hand from the safe spot of her hip, raising it to dust his thumb to the hint of a smile.

“Can’t handle the dead weight?”

He scoffs, but then she turns her head, catches the pad of his thumb with a press of her lips, a quick scrape of her teeth. He’s almost positive she can feel his heart stop beneath hers.

“Sorry,” she whispers, her grin turning rueful, but Castle shakes his head.

“No, don’t be sorry, just - I just don’t know what this means. What we’re doing.”

“I know,” she murmurs, her voice so soft. He doesn’t think he ever associated Kate with that word, soft, but since her shooting, she’s allowed him to see the gentler side to her, the vulnerable pieces. God knows she couldn’t hide it from him in these last few hours. He hasn’t left her bedside and she hasn’t asked him to go. “And it’s probably bad timing, always bad timing. I’m always dying-”

“Kate,” he chokes, his hand clutching at the back of her neck.

“I’ve got a bullet hole in my chest, back ripped open from a tiger - I don’t want to know what comes next, all I do know is that I need to tell you before it does-”

“Nothing comes next,” he argues vehemently. “Nothing is going to-”

“Castle, hush,” she growls, her nails piercing through the material of his hoodie. “All I’m saying is that we don’t know what’s going to happen, how much time we have, but I do know what I want.” She unfurls her fingers at his chest, flattens her palm over the bones of his sternum. “And I’m tired of finding reasons to back off because I’m afraid or not ready or both. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He’s having a hard time breathing.

“I’m so sick of waiting,” she sighs, her lips curving into a frown that could be considered a pout, voice edging closer to a whine than he’s ever heard. And oh, if he thought soft Kate Beckett was adorable, whiny Kate Beckett is absolutely precious. “I just want - I want to be with you. To love you back.”

“You - you do?” he gets out, just barely. But Kate is looking at him with hope and apology in her eyes.

Should’ve told you sooner.

Ah. And to love him back.

So she did hear him. She heard him and she… she feels the same way?

“You love me?” he murmurs, still breathless, but a little less pathetic.

Some of the apprehension slips from her gaze and she offers a tentative nod of her head, still wincing with it.

“Yeah, I do,” she whispers, shy. He’s never seen her shy either, not like this - bottom lip between her teeth, lashes hiding her eyes, cheeks gaining a touch of color. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“No.” He slides his fingers from her neck to return to her hair, submerging in the locks and scratching lightly at her scalp. Her back must be on fire. “I told you I loved you while you were bleeding out at Montgomery’s funeral,” he says grimly. “It was… a lot. But I meant it, Kate. I should’ve said it sooner, I-”

“Kiss me,” she murmurs, impatience brimming in her eyes as they flicker down to his lips and kickstarting his heart. “If I could do it myself, I’d shut you up with my mouth, so-”

He cranes his neck to catch her lips, the chuckle in his throat dying beneath the press of her mouth, the familiar caress of a kiss he’s been dreaming about for nearly a year now.

She sighs into his mouth, paints her tongue to the seam of his lips, and almost makes him forget about the gaping wounds down her back. But then her spine shudders and her body tenses over his and he knows they have to stop.

“I can’t wait to do this right,” she grumbles, burying her nose against his cheek. “Without the tiger.”

A laugh puffs from his lips and he adjusts beneath her, returning his other hand to her hip, until he feels her slowly sinking back into the cove of him.

“How bad?” he murmurs, dusting his lips at her forehead. His fingers have automatically resumed their comb through her hair and he can feel her listing heavier against him, threatening to drift.

“I don’t want any more drugs.” Which means she probably needs more drugs. “I’m okay for now. Good with you.”

Soft, whiny, and shy - all little glimpses of her he’s never had the privilege of seeing before, but this one is his favorite. Because she’s in love with him too, and she’s even more beautiful when she lets him see it.

Kate touches her lips to his throat once more before lowering her cheek back to the resting place of his chest. His heart stumbles beneath the lasting impression of her kiss, caught in his throat, exalting with joy and relief, exhilaration.

“I love you,” he whispers, even though it’s no longer a secret, and swears he feels her lips curl against his chest.

#castle fanfiction #castle au #kate beckett #richard castle #4x10 #castle #prompt #mine

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